nilli     i 


*   OCT  24 1911   *) 


1910.       '    ^^e^ander,  i 
^^e  secret  of 


826- 


power 


THE   SECRET    OF    POWER 


V 


T 


*      OCT  24 

HE   S  ECRE'r^'"^^ 
OF     POWER 


AND      OTHER,     SERMONS    bv 

Alexander  Maclaren  d.d. 


FUNK   &  WAGNALLS   COMPANY 


NEW     YORK 


CONTENTS  ' 


SERMON   I 

PAGE 

THE   SECRET   OF   POWER \- 


SERMON  II 

THE   PATTERN    OF   SERVICE  .  .  .  .  .  .26 

SERMON   III 
THE  AWAKING   OF  ZION  $8 

SERMON   IV 

"TIME   FOR   THEE   TO   WORK" '    8I 

SERMON  V 

THE  EXHORTATION  OF  BARNABAS IC7 

SERMON   VI 

MEASURELESS   POWER   AND   ENDLESS   GLORY        .  .  .    I30 

V 


vi  CONTENTS 


SERMON   VII 

PAGE 

love's  triumph 145  ^' 


SERMON  VIII 

THE    GRAVE     OF    THE    DEAD     JOHN     AND     THE    GRAVE     OF 

THE    LIVING   JESUS        .  .  .  .  .  .    I59 

SERMON   IX 

THE     TRANSLATION     OF    ELIJAH   AND   THE    ASCENSION    OF 

CHRIST  174 

SERMON   X 

CAN    WE   MAKE   SURE   OF   TO-MORROW?       .  .  .  .    187 

SERMON   XI 

THE   SOLITARINESS   OF    CHRIST    IN    HIS   TEMPTATIONS  .    20I 

SERMON  XII 

THE   WELLS   OF   SALVATION 212 

SERMON   XIII 

SEEKING   THE   FACE   OF     .OD 222 


CONTENTS  vii 

SERMON   XIV 

PAGE 

CITIZENS   OF    HEAVEN 237 

SERMON   XV 

MOSES   AND    HOBAB    §^ — jt' 25 1 

SERMON   XVI 

THE   OBSCURE  APOSTLES 265 

SERMON   XVII 

THE   soul's  perfection 280 

SERMON   XVIII 

THE    first   PREACHING    AT   ANTIOCH  ....    294 

SERMON   XIX 

THE   MASTER  AND   HIS   SLAVES 304 

SERMON   XX 

A   prisoner's   DYING   THOUGHTS         .  ,  .  .  >   313 


SERMON   !.• 

THE  SECRET  OF  POWER. 

St.  Matthew  xrii  19,  aa 

Then  came  the  disciples  to  Jesus  apart,  and  laid.  Why  conld  not 
we  cast  him  oat  ?  And  Jesus  said  onto  them.  Because  of  your 
anbelief. 

*  A  ND  when  He  had  called  unto  Him  Hia  twelve  dis- 
•^^^  ciples,  He  gave  them  power  against  unclean  spirits 
to  cast  them  out"  That  same  power  was  bestowed,  too,  on 
the  wider  circle  of  the  seventy  who  retrimed  again  with 
joy,  saying,  "  Lord,  even  the  devils  are  subject  unto  us 
through  Thy  name."  The  ground  of  it  was  laid  in  the 
solemn  words  with  which  Christ  met  their  wonder  at 
their  own  strength,  and  told  how  He  "  beheld  Satan  as 
lightning  fall  from  heaven.'*  Therefore  had  they 
triumphed,  showing  the  fruits  of  their  Master's  victory  ] 
and  therefore  had  He  a  right  to  renew  the  gift,  in  the 
still  more  comprehensive  promise,  "  I  give  unto  you 
power — over  all  the  power  of  the  enemy." 

What  a  commentary  on  such  words  this  story  affords  1 
What  has  become  of  their  supernatural  might  ?  Has  it 

*  Preached  before  the    Directors  and  Friends  of   tkc   London 
liisuoDJU7  Society. 


2  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  [serm 

ebbed  away  as  suddenly  as  it  flowed  ?  Is  their  Lord's 
endowment  a  shadow — His  assurances  delusion  ?  Has  He 
taken  back  what  He  gave?  Not  so.  And  yet  His 
servants  are  ignominiously  beaten.  One  poor  devil- 
ridden  boy  brings  all  their  resources  to  nothing.  He 
stands  before  them  writhing  in  the  gripe  of  his  tormentor, 
but  they  cannot  set  him  free.  The  importunity  of  the 
father's  prayers  is  vain,  and  the  tension  of  expectancy  in 
his  eager  face  relaxes  into  the  old  hopeless  langi*or  as  he 
slowly  droops  to  the  conviction  that  they  could  not  cast 
him  out  The  malicious  scorn  in  the  eyes  of  the  Scribes, 
those  hostile  critics  who  "knew  that  it  would  be  so," 
helps  to  produce  the  failure  which  they  anticipated.  The 
curious  crowd  buzz  about  them — and  in  the  m»<ist  of  it 
all  the  Uttle  knot  of  baffled  disciples,  possessors  of  power 
which  seems  to  leave  them  when  they  need  it  most,  with 
the  unavailing  spells  dying  half  spoken  on  their  lips,  and 
their  faint  hearts  longing  that  their  Master  would  come 
down  from  the  mount,  and  cover  their  weakness  with  His 
own  great  strength. 

No  wonder  that,  as  soon  as  Christ  and  they  are 
alone,  they  want  to  know  how  their  mortifying  defeat 
has  come  about  And  they  get  an  answer  which 
they  little  expected,  for  the  last  place  where  men 
look  for  the  explanation  of  their  failures  is  within ; 
and  they  will  ascend  into  the  heavens,  and  descend  into 
the  deeps  for  remote  and  recondite  reasons,  before  they 
listen  to  the  voice  which  says,  "  The  fault  is  nigh  thee — 
in  thy  heart"  Christ's  reply  distinctly  impUes  that  the 
cause  of  their  impotence  lay  wholly  in  themselves,  not  in 


L]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  f 

any  defect  or  withdrawal  of  power,  but  solely  in  that  in 
them  which  grasped  the  power.  They  little  expected,  too, 
to  be  told  that  they  had  failed  because  they  had  not  been 
sure  they  would  succeed.  They  had  thought  they  believed 
in  their  ability  to  cast  out  the  demon.  They  had  tried 
with  some  kind  of  anticipation  that  they  could.  They 
had  been  surprised  when  they  found  they  could  not 
They  had  wonderingly  asked  why.  And  now  Christ  tells 
them  that  all  along  they  had  had  no  real  faith  in  Him 
and  in  the  reality  of  His  gift  So  subtly  may  unbehef 
steal  into  the  heart,  even  while  we  fancy  that  we  are 
working  in  faith.  And  a  further  portion  of  our  Lord's 
reply  points  them  to  the  great  means  by  which  this 
conquering  faith  can  be  maintained — namely,  prayer  and 
fasting.  If,  then,  we  put  all  these  things  together,  we 
get  a  series  of  considerations,  very  simple  and  common- 
place indeed,  but  all  the  better  and  truer  therefore,  which 
I  venture  to  submit  to  you,  as  having  a  very  important 
bearing  on  all  our  Chnstian  work,  and  especially  on  the 
missionary  work  of  the  Church.  The  principles  which  the 
text  suggests  touch  the  perpetual  possession  of  the  power 
which  conquers ;  the  condition  of  its  victorious  exercise  by 
us,  as  being  our  faith ;  the  subtle  danger  of  unsuspected 
unbelief  to  which  we  are  exposed ;  and  the  great  means 
of  preserving  our  faith  pure  and  strong.  I  ask  your 
attention  to  a  few  considerations  on  these  points  in  their 
order. 

But  first,  let  me  say  very  briefly,  that  I  would  not  be 
understood  as,  by  the  selection  of  such  a  text,  desiring  to 
suggest  that  we  have  failed  in  our  work.     Thank  God  1 

B    t 


4  THE  SECRET  OF  POWEIL  [IKRM. 

we  can  point  to  results  far,  its  greater  than  we  have 
deserved,  far  greater  than  we  have  expected,  however 
they  may  be  beneath  our  desires,  and  still  further  below 
what  the  gospel  was  meant  to  accomphsh.  It  may  suit 
observers  who  have  never  done  anything  themselves,  and 
have  not  particularly  clear  eyes  for  appreciating  spiritual 
work,  to  talk  of  Christian  missions  as  failures;  but  it 
would  ill  become  us  to  assent  to  the  lie.  Failures 
indeed  I  with  half  a  million  of  converts,  with  new  forms 
of  Christian  life  budding  in  all  the  wilderness  of  the 
peoples,  with  the  consciousness  of  coming  doom  creep- 
ing about  the  heart  of  every  system  of  idolatry  I  Is  the 
green  life  in  the  hedges  and  in  the  sweet  pastures  starred 
with  rathe  primroses,  and  in  the  hidden  copses  blue  with 
hyacinths  a  failure,  because  the  east  wind  bites  shrewdly, 
and  "  the  tender  ash  delays  to  clothe  herself  with  green  "? 
No  I  no  we  have  not  failed  Enough  has  been  done  to 
vindicate  the  enterprise,  more  than  enough  to  fill  our 
lips  with  thanksgiving,  enough  to  entitle  us  to  say  to 
all  would-be  critics — Do  you  the  same  with  your  enchant- 
ments. But,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  to  confess 
that  the  success  has  been  slow  and  small,  chequered  and 
interrupted,  that  often  we  have  been  foiled,  that  we  have 
confronted  many  a  demon  whom  we  could  not  cast  out, 
and  that  at  home  and  abroad  the  masses  of  evil  seem  to 
close  in  around  us,  and  we  make  but  little  impression 
on  their  serried  ranks.  We  have  had  success  enough  to 
assure  ns  that  we  possess  the  treasure,  and  failures 
enough  to  make  us  feel  how  weak  are  the  earthen  vessels 
which  hold  it. 


L]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  ^ 

And  now  let  Qs  turn  to  the  principles  which  flow  from 
this  text 

L   We  have  an  unvarying  pcwer^ 

No  doubt  the  explanation  of  their  defeat  which  most 
naturally  suggested  itself  to  these  disciples  would  be  that 
somehow  or  other — perhaps  because  of  Christ's  absence 
—they  had  lost  the  gift  which  they  knew  they  once  had. 
And  the  same  way  of  accounting  for  later  want  of  succes* 
Mngers  among  Christian  people  stilt  You  will  sometimes 
hear  it  said : — **  God  sends  forth  His  Spirit  in  special  ftd- 
ness  at  special  times,  according  to  His  own  soyereign 
will ;  and  till  then  we  can  only  wait  and  pray."  Or 
••The  miraculous  powers  which  dwelt  in  the  early  Church 
have  been  withdrawn,  and  therefore  the  progress  is  slow.** 
The  strong  imaginative  tendency  to  make  an  ideal  perfect 
in  the  past  leads  us  to  think  of  the  primitive  age  of  the 
Church  as  golden,  in  opposition  to  the  plain  facts  of  the 
case.  We  fimcy  that  because  apostles  were  its  teachers, 
and  the  Cross  within  its  memory,  the  infant  society  wa» 
stronger,  wiser,  better  than  any  age  since,  and  had  gifts 
which  we  have  lost  What  had  it  which  we  do  not 
possess?  The  power  of  working  miracles.  What  have 
we  which  it  did  not  possess  ?  A  completed  Bible,  and 
tfie  experience  of  eighteen  centuries  to  teach  us  to  under- 
stand it,  and  to  confirm  by  facts  our  confidence  that 
Christ's  gospel  is  for  all  time  and  every  land  What 
bave  we  in  common  with  it  ?  The  same  mission  to  fulfil^ 
the  same  wants  in  our  brethren  to  meet,  the  same  gospel, 
the  same  spirit,  the  same  immortal  Lord.     All  that  aa^ 


«  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  [serm. 

age  has  possessed  to  fit  it  for  the  task  of  witnessing  for 
Christ  we  too  possess.  The  Church  has  in  it  a  power 
which  is  ever  adequate  to  the  conquest  of  the  worid ;  and 
that  power  is  constant  through  all  time,  whether  we  con- 
sider it  as  recorded  in  an  unvarying  gospel,  or  as  energized 
by  an  abiding  spirit,  or  as  flowing  from  and  centred  in  an 
unchangeable  Lord. 

We  have  a  gospel  which  never  can  grow  old.  Its  adap- 
tation to  the  deepest  needs  of  men's  souls  remains  con- 
stant with  these  needs.  These  vary  not  from  age  to  age. 
No  matter  what  may  be  the  superficial  differences  of  dress 
the  same  human  heart  beats  beneath  every  robe.  The 
great  primal  wants  of  men's  spirits  abide  as  the  great 
primal  wants  of  their  bodily  life  abide.  Food  and  shelter 
for  the  one, — a  loving,  pardoning  God,  to  know  and  love, 
for  the  other — else  they  perish.  Wherever  men  go  they 
carry  with  them  a  conscience  which  needs  cleansing,  a 
sense  of  separation  from  God  jomed  with  a  dim  know- 
ledge that  union  with  Him  is  life,  a  will  which  is  burdened 
with  its  own  self-hood,  an  imagination  which  paints  the 
misty  walls  of  this  earthly  prison  with  awful  shapes  that 
terrify  and  faint  hopes  that  mock,  a  heart  that  hungers 
for  love,  and  a  reason  which  pines  in  atrophy  without 
light  And  all  these  the  gospel  which  is  lodged  in  our 
hands  meets.  It  addresses  itself  to  nothing  in  men  that 
is  not  in  Man.  Surface  differences  of  position,  culture, 
chme,  age,  and  the  like,  it  brushes  aside  as  unimportant 
and  it  goes  straight  to  the  universal  wants.  People  tell 
us  it  has  done  its  work,  and  much  confident  dogmatism 
proclaims  that  the  world  has  outgrown  it     We  have  a 


THE  SECRET  OF  POWER. 


right  to  be  confident  also,  with  a  confidence  bom  of  oitr 
knowledge,  that  it  has  met  and  satisfied  for  us  the  wants 
which  are  ours  and  every  man's,  and  to  believe  that  as 
long  as  men  live  by  bread,  so  long  will  this  word  which 
proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God  be  the  food  of  their 
souls.  Areopagus  and  Piccadilly,  Benares  and  Oxford, 
need  the  same  message  and  will  find  the  same  response 
to  all  their  wants  in  the  same  word. 

Much  of  the  institutions  in  which  Christendom  has 
embodied  its  conceptions  of  God's  truth  will  crumble 
away.  Many  of  the  conceptions  will  have  to  be  modi- 
fied, neglected  truths  will  grow,  to  the  dislocation  ol 
much  systematic  theology,  and  the  Word  better  under- 
stood will  clear  away  many  a  portentous  error  with  which 
the  Church  has  darkened  the  word.  Be  it  so.  Let  ua 
be  glad  when  "  the  things  which  can  be  shaken  are  re- 
moved," like  mean  huts  built  against  the  wall  of  some 
cathedral,  masking  and  marring  the  completeness  of  its 
beauty;  "that  the  things  which  cannot  be  shaken  may 
remain,"  and  all  the  clustered  shafts,  and  deep-arched 
recesses,  and  sweet  tracery  may  stand  forth  freed  from 
the  excrescences  which  hid  them.  "  The  grass  withereth, 
and  the  flower  thereof  falleth  away.  But  the  word  of  the 
Lord  endureth  for  ever." 

We  have  an  abiding  Spirit^  the  Giver  to  us  of  a  power 
without  variableness  or  the  shadow  of  turning,  "  I  will 
pray  the  Father,  and  He  shall  give  you  another  Paraclete, 
that  He  may  abide  with  you  for  ever."  The  manner  of 
His  operations  may  vary,  but  the  reality  of  His  energy 
abides.     The  "  works "  of  wonder  which  Jesus  did   oa 


8  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  [skrm. 

earth  may  no  more  be  done,  but  the  greater  works  than 
these  are  still  the  sign  of  His  presence,  without  whom  no 
spiritual  life  is  possible.  Prophecies  may  fail,  tongues 
may  cease,  but  the  more  excellent  gifts  are  poured  out 
now  as  richly  as  ever.  We  are  apt  to  look  back  to 
Pentecost  and  think  that  that  marked  a  height  to  which 
the  tide  has  never  reached  since,  and  therefore  we  are 
stranded  amidst  the  ooze  and  mud  But  the  river  which 
proceeds  from  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb  is  not 
like  one  of  our  streams  on  earth,  that  leaps  to  the  light 
and  dashes  rejoicingly  down  the  hillside,  but  creeps 
along  sluggish  in  its  level  course,  and  dies  away  at  last  in 
the  sands.  It  pours  along  the  ages  the  same  fiill  volume 
with  which  it  gushed  forth  at  first  Rather,  the  source 
goes  with  the  Church  in  all  ages,  and  we  drink  not  of 
water  that  came  forth  long  ago  in  the  history  of  the 
world,  and  has  reached  us  through  the  centuries,  but  of 
that  which  wells  out  fresh  every  moment  from  the  Rock 
that  follows  us.     The  Giver  of  all  power  is  with  us. 

We  have  a  Lord^  the  same  yesterday^  and  to-day^  and 
for  ever,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  always,  even  to  the  end 
of  the  world."  We  have  not  merely  to  look  back  to  the 
life  and  death  of  Christ  in  history,  and  recognise  there 
the  work,  the  efficacy  of  which  shall  endure  for  ever. 
But  whilst  we  do  this,  we  have  also  to  think  of  the  Christ 
"  that  is  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God, 
who  also  maketh  intercession  for  us."  And  the  one 
thought,  as  the  other,  should  strengthen  our  confidence 
in  our  possession  of  all  the  might  that  we  need  for  bring- 
ing the  world  back  to  our  Lord. 


L]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  9 

A  work  in  the  past  which  can  never  be  exhausted  or 
lose  its  power  is  the  theme  of  our  message.  The  mists  of 
gathering  ages  wrap  in  slowly  thickening  folds  of  forgetful- 
ness  all  other  men  and  events  in  history,  and  make  them 
ghostlike  and  shadowy ;  but  no  distance  has  yet  dimmed 
or  will  ever  dim  that  human  form  divine.  Other  names 
are  like  those  stars  that  blaze  out  for  a  while,  and  then 
smoulder  down  into  almost  complete  invisibiUty  j  but  He 
is  the  very  Light  itself,  that  bums  and  is  not  consumed. 
Other  landmarks  sink  below  the  horizon  as  the  tribes  of 
men  pursue  their  solemn  march  through  the  centuries, 
but  the  Cross  on  Calvary  "  shall  stand  for  an  ensign  of 
the  people,  and  to  it  shall  the  Gentiles  seek."  To  pro- 
claim that  accomplished  salvation,  once  for  all  lodged  in 
the  heart  of  the  world's  history,  and  henceforth  for  ever 
^ralid,  is  our  unalterable  duty.  The  message  carries  in 
itself  its  own  immortal  strength. 

A  living  Saviour  in  the  present,  who  works  with  ns, 
confirming  the  word  with  signs  following,  is  the  source  of 
our  power.  Not  till  He  is  impotent  shall  we  be  weak. 
The  unmeasurable  measure  of  the  gift  of  Christ  defines 
the  degree,  and  the  unending  duration  of  His  life  who 
continueth  for  ever  sets  the  period,  of  our  possession  of 
the  grace  which  is  given  to  every  one  of  us.  He  is  ever 
bestowing.  He  never  withdraws  what  He  once  gives. 
The  fountain  sinks  not  a  hair's  breadth,  though  eighteen 
centuries  have  drawn  from  it  Modem  astronomy  begins 
to  believe  that  the  sun  itself  by  long  expense  of  light  will 
be  shorn  of  its  beams  and  wander  darkling  in  space, 
circled  no  more  by  its  daughter  planets.    But  this  Sunol 


lo  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  [SERM, 

our  souls  rays  out  for  ever  the  energies  of  life  and  light 
and  love,  and  after  all  communication  possesses  the  in- 
finite fulness  of  them  all  "  His  name  shall  be  continued 
as  long  as  the  sun,  all  nations  shall  call  Him  blessed.** 

Here  then,  brethren,  are  the  perpetual  elements  of  our 
constant  power,  an  eternal  Word,  an  abiding  Spirit,  an 
unchanging  Lord. 

n.   The  condition  of  exercising  this  power  is  Faith, 

With  such  a  force  at  our  command — 2l  force  that  could 
shake  the  mountains  and  break  the  rocks — ^how  come  we 
ever  to  fail  ?  So  the  disciples  asked,  and  Christ's  answer 
cuts  to  the  very  heart  of  the  matter.  Why  could  you  not 
cast  him  out  ?  For  one  reason  only,  because  you  had 
lost  your  hold  of  My  strength,  and  therefore  had  lost 
your  confidence  in  your  own  derived  power,  or  had 
forgotten  that  it  was  derived,  and  essayed  to  wield  it  as 
if  it  were  your  own.  You  did  not  trust  Me,  so  you  did  not 
beheve  that  you  could  cast  him  out ;  or  you  believed  that 
you  could  by  your  own  might,  therefore  you  failed.  He 
throws  them  back  decisively  on  themselves  as  solely 
responsible.  Nowhere  else,  in  heaven  or  in  earth  or 
hell,  but  only  in  us,  does  the  reason  lie  for  our  break- 
down, if  we  have  broken  down.  Not  in  God,  who  is  ever 
with  us,  ready  to  make  all  grace  abound  in  us,  whose 
will  is  that  all  men  should  be  saved  and  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth;  not  in  the  gospel  which  we 
preach,  for  "  it  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation ; "  not 
in  the  demon  might  which  has  overcome  us,  for  "  greater 
is  He  that  is  in  us  than  he  that  is  in  the  world.'*    We  an 


L]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  H 

driven  from  all  other  explanations  to  the  bitterest  and 
yet  the  most  hopeful  of  all,  that  we  only  are  to  blame. 

And  what  in  us  is  to  blame  ?  Some  of  us  will  answer 
— Our  mode^  of  working;  they  have  not  been  free 
enough,  or  not  orderly  enough,  or  in  some  way  or  other 
not  wisely  adapted  to  our  ends.  Some  will  answer — Our 
forms  of  presenting  the  truth  ;  they  have  not  been  flexible 
enough,  or  not  fixed  enough ;  they  have  been  too  much  a 
reproduction  of  the  old ;  they  have  been  too  licentious  a 
departure  from  the  old.  Some  will  answer — Our  eccle- 
siastical arrangements ;  they  have  been  too  democratic ; 
they  have  been  too  priestly.  Some  will  answer — Our 
intellectual  culture  ;  it  has  been  too  great,  obscuring  the 
simplicity  that  is  in  Christ ;  it  has  been  too  small,  sending 
poorly  fiirnished  men  into  the  field  to  fight  with  ordered 
systems  of  idolatry  which  rest  upon  a  philosophical  basis, 
and  can  only  be  overturned  by  undermining  that  It  is 
no  part  of  ray  present  duty  to  discuss  these  varying  answers. 
No  doubt  there  is  room  for  improvement  in  all  the  fields 
which  they  indicate.  But  does  not  the  spirit  of  our  Lord's 
words  here  beckon  us  away  from  these  purely  secondary 
subjects  to  fix  our  self-examination  on  the  depth  and 
strength  of  our  faith,  as  incomparably  the  most  important 
element  in  the  conditions  which  determine  our  success  or 
our  failure?  I  do  not  undervalue  the  worth  of  wise 
methods  of  action,  but  the  history  of  the  Church  tells  us 
that  pretty  nearly  any  methods  of  action  are  fruitful  in 
the  right  hands,  and  that  without  living  faith  the  best  of 
them  become  hke  the  heavy  armour  which  half-smothered 
a  feeble  man.     I  do  not  pretend  to  that  sublime  indif- 


IS  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  [serm 


ference  to  dogma  which  is  the  modem  fonn  of  supreme 
devotion  to  truth,  but  experience  has  taught  us  that 
wherever  the  name  of  Christ,  as  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
has  been  lovingly  proclaimed,  there  devils  have  been  cast 
out,  whatever  private  and  sectional  doctrines  the  exor- 
ciser  has  added  to  it  I  do  not  disparage  organisation, 
but  courage  is  more  than  drill ;  and  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  the  very  perfection  of  arrangement  without  life,  like 
cabinets  in  a  museum,  where  all  the  specimens  are  duly 
classified,  and  dead.  I  believe,  with  the  old  preacher, 
that  if  God  can  do  without  our  learning.  He  needs  our 
ignorance  still  less,  but  it  is  of  comparatively  little 
importance  whether  the  draught  of  living  water  be  brought 
to  thirsty  lips  in  an  earthen  cup  or  a  golden  vase, 

"The  main  thing  is,  does  it  hold  good  measuitt 
Heaven  soon  sets  right  all  other  matters.*' 

And  therefore,  while  leaving  full  scope  for  all  im- 
provements in  these  subordinate  conditions,  let  me  urge 
upon  you  that  the  main  thing  which  makes  us  strong  for 
our  Christian  work  is  the  grasp  of  living  faith,  which  holds 
fest  the  strength  of  God.  There  is  no  need  to  plunge 
into  the  jungle  of  metaphysical  theology  here.  Is  it  not 
a  fact  that  the  might  with  which  the  power  of  God  has 
wrought  for  men's  salvation  has  corresponded  with  the 
strength  of  the  Church's  desire  and  the  purity  of  its  trust 
in  His  power  ?  Is  it  not  a  truth  plainly  spoken  in  Scrip- 
ture and  confirmed  by  experience,  that  we  have  the 
awfiil  prerogative  of  limiting  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and 
quenching  the  Spirit  ?    Was  there  not  a  time  in  Christ'i 


Lj  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  13 

life  on  earth  when  He  could  do  no  mighty  works  because 
of  their  unbelief?  We  receive  all  spiritual  gifts  in 
proportion  to  our  capacity,  and  the  chief  factor  in  settling 
the  measure  of  our  capacity  is  our  faith.  Here  on  the 
one  hand  is  the  boundless  ocean  of  the  Divine  strength, 
unfathomable  in  its  depth,  fiill  after  all  draughts,  tideless 
and  calm,  in  all  its  movement  never  troubled,  in  all  its 
repose  never  stagnating;  and  on  the  other  side  is  the 
empty  aridity  of  our  poor  weak  natures.  Faith  opens 
these  to  the  influx  of  that  great  sea,  and  "  according  to 
our  faith,"  in  the  exact  measure  of  our  receptivity,  does  it 
enter  our  hearts.  In  itself  the  gift  is  boundless.  It  has 
no  limit  except  the  infinite  fulness  of  the  power  which 
worketh  in  us.  But  in  reference  to  our  possession  it  is 
bounded  by  our  capacity,  and  though  that  capacity  en- 
larges by  the  very  fact  of  being  filled,  and  so  every 
moment  becomes  greater  through  fruition,  yet  at  each 
moment  it  is  the  measure  of  our  possession,  and  our  faith 
is  the  measure  of  our  capacity.  Our  power  is  God's 
power  in  us,  and  our  faith  is  the  power  with  which  we 
grasp  God's  power  and  make  it  ours.  So  then,  in  regard 
to  God,  our  faith  is  the  condition  of  our  being  strengthened 
with  might  by  His  Spirit 

Consider,  too,  how  the  same  faith  has  a  natural  opera^ 
Hon  on  ourselves  which  tends  to  fit  us  for  casting  out  the 
evil  spirits.  Given  a  man  full  of  faith,  you  will  have  a 
man  tenacious  in  purpose,  absorbed  in  one  grand  object, 
simple  in  his  motives,  in  whom  selfishness  has  been 
driven  out  by  the  power  of  a  mightier  love,  and  indolence 
stirred  into  unwearied  energy.     Such  a  man  will  be  made 


14  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  [serm 

wise  to  devise,  gentle  to  attract,  bold  to  rebuke,  fertile 
in  expedients,  and  ready  to  be  anything  that  may  help 
the  aim  of  his  life.  Fear  will  be  dead  in  him,  for  faith 
is  the  true  anaesthesia  of  the  soul ;  and  the  knife  may 
cut  into  the  quivering  flesh,  and  the  spirit  be  scarce 
conscious  of  a  pang.  Love,  ambition,  and  all  the 
swarm  of  distracting  desires  will  be  driven  from  the  soul 
in  which  the  lamp  of  faith  bums  bright  Ordinary 
human  motives  will  appeal  in  vain  to  the  ears  which  have 
heard  the  tones  of  the  heavenly  music,  and  all  the  pomps 
of  life  will  show  poor  and  tawdry  to  the  sight  that  has 
gazed  on  the  vision  of  the  great  white  throne  and  the 
crystal  sea.  The  most  ignorant  and  erroneous  "  religious 
sentiment " — to  use  a  modem  phrase — is  mightier  than 
all  other  forces  in  the  world's  history.  It  is  like  some 
of  those  terrible  compounds  of  modem  chemistry,  an 
inert,  innocuous-looking  drop  of  liquid.  Shake  it,  and 
it  flames  heaven  high,  shattering  the  rocks  and  ploughing 
up  the  soiL  Put  even  an  adulterated  and  camalised 
faith  into  the  hearts  of  a  mob  of  wild  Arabs,  and  in  a 
century  they  will  stream  from  their  deserts,  and  blaze 
from  tiie  mountains  of  Spain  to  the  plains  of  Bengal 
Put  a  living  faith  in  Christ  and  a  heroic  confidence  in  the 
power  of  His  gospel  to  reclaim  the  worst  sinners  into  a 
man's  heart,  and  he  will  out  of  weakness  be  made  strong, 
and  plough  his  way  through  obstacles  with  the  compact 
force  and  crashing  directness  of  lightning.  There  have 
been  men  of  all  sorts  who  have  been  honoured  to  do 
much  in  this  world  for  Christ  Wise  and  fooUsh,  learned 
and  ignorant,  differing  in  tone,  temper,  creed,  forms  ol 


i.  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  15 

thought,  and  manner  of  working,  in  every  conceivable 
degree; — but  one  thing,  and  perhaps  one  thing  only, 
they  have  all  had — a  passion  of  enthusiastic  personal 
devotion  to  their  Lord,  a  profound  and  living  faith  in 
Him  and  in  His  salvation.  All  in  which  they  differed 
is  but  the  gay  gilding  on  the  soldier's  coat  That  in 
which  they  were  alike  is  as  the  strong  arm  which  grasps 
the  sword,  and  has  its  muscles  braced  by  the  very  clutch. 
Faith  is  itself  a  source  of  strength,  as  well  as  the  condition 
of  drawing  might  from  heaven. 

Consider,  too,  how  faith  has  power  over  mm  wh»  see 
it  The  exhibition  of  our  own  personal  convictions  has 
more  to  do  in  spreading  them  than  all  the  arguments 
which  we  use.  There  is  a  magnetism  and  a  contagious 
energy  in  the  sight  of  a  brother's  faith  which  few  men 
can  wholly  resist  If  you  wish  me  to  weep,  your  own 
tears  must  flow ;  and  if  you  would  have  me  believe,  let 
me  see  your  soul  heaving  under  the  emotion  which  you 
desire  me  to  feel  The  arrow  may  be  keen  and  true,  the 
shafl  rounded  and  straight,  the  bow  strong,  and  the  arm 
sinewy ;  b\it  unless  the  steel  be  winged  it  will  fall  to  the 
ground  long  before  it  strikes  the  butt  Your  arrows 
must  be  winged  with  faith,  else  orthodoxy,  and  wise 
arrangements,  and  force  and  zeal,  will  avail  nothing. 
No  man  will  believe  in,  and  no  demon  will  obey,  spells 
which  the  would-be  exorcist  only  half  believes  himself. 
Even  if  he  speak  the  name  of  Christ,  unless  he  speak  it 
with  unfaltering  confidence,  all  the  answer:  he  will  get 
will  only  be  the  fierce  and  taunting  question,  "  Jesus  I 
know,  and  Pau.  I  know,  but  who  are  ye?"     BrethreD^ 


i6  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  [SERii. 

let  us  give  heed  to  the  solemn  rebuke  which  our  Master 
lovingly  reads  to  us  in  these  words,  and  while  we  aim  at 
the  utmost  possible  perfection  in  all  subordinate  matters, 
let  us  remember  that  they  all  without  faith  are  weak, 
as  an  empty  suit  of  armour  with  no  life  beneath  the 
corslet;  and  that  faith  without  them  all  is  strong,  like 
the  knight  of  old,  who  rode  into  the  bloody  field  in 
simple  silken  vest,  and  conquered.  That  which  deter- 
mines our  success  or  fiailure  in  the  work  of  our  Lord 
is  our  faith. 

IIL  Our  faith  is  ever  threatened  by  subtle  unbelief. 
It  would  appear  that  the  disciples  were  ignorant  of  the 
imbelief  that  had  made  them  weak.  They  fancied  that 
they  had  confidence  in  their  Christ-given  power,  and 
they  certainly  had  in  some  dull  kind  of  fashion  expected 
to  succeed  in  their  attempt  But  He  who  sees  the  heart 
knew  that  there  was  no  real  living  confidence  in  their 
souls ;  and  His  words  are  a  solemn  warning  to  us  all, 
of  how  possible  it  is  for  us  to  have  our  faith  all  honey- 
combed by  gnawing  doubt  while  we  suspect  it  not, 
like  some  piece  of  wood  apparently  sound,  the  whole 
substance  of  which  has  been  eaten  away  by  hidden 
worms.  We  may  be  going  on  with  Christian  work, 
and  may  even  be  looking  for  spiritual  results.  We  may 
fancy  ourselves  faithful  stewards  of  the  gospel,  and  all 
the  while  there  may  be  an  utter  absence  of  the  one  thing 
which  makes  our  words  more  than  so  much  wind  whist- 
ling through  an  archway.  The  shorn  Samson  went  out 
**  to  shake  himself  as  at  other  times,"  and  knew  not  thai 


L]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  ly 

the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  had  departed  from  him.  Who 
among  us  is  not  exposed  to  the  assaults  of  that  pestilence 
that  walketh  in  darkness  ?  and,  alas  !  who  among  us  can 
say  that  he  has  repelled  the  contagion  ?  Subtly  it  creeps 
over  us  all,  the  stealthy  intangible  vapour,  unfelt  till  it 
has  quenched  the  lamp  which  alone  lights  the  darkness 
of  the  mine,  and  clogged  to  suffocation  the  labouring 
lungs. 

Our  time,  and  the  object  in  yi«w,  preclude  my  speaking 
of  the  general  sources  of  danger  to  our  faith,  which  are 
always  in  operation  with  a  retarding  force  as  constant  as 
friction,  as  certain  as  the  gravitation  which  pulls  the 
pendulum  to  rest  at  its  lowest  point  But  I  may  very 
briefly  particularize  two  of  the  enemies  of  that  fakl^ 
which  have  a  special  bearing  on  our  missionary  work, 
and  may  be  illustrated  from  the  narrative  before  us. 

First,  all  our  activity  in  spreading  the  gospel,  whether 
by  personal  effort  or  by  our  gifts,  like  every  form  of 
outward  action,  tends  to  become  mechanical^  and  to  lose 
its  connection  with  the  motive  which  originated  it  Of 
course  it  is  also  true,  on  the  other  side,  that  all  outward 
action  also  tends  to  strengthen  the  motive  from  which  it 
flows.  But  our  Christian  work  will  not  do  so,  unless  it 
be  carefully  watched,  and  pains  be  taken  to  keep  it 
from  slipping  off  its  original  foundation,  and  so  altering 
its  whole  character.  We  may  very  easily  become  so 
occupied  with  the  mere  external  occupation  as  to  be 
quite  unconscious  that  it  has  ceased  to  be  faithful  work, 
and  has  become  routine,  dull  mechanism,  or  the  result 
of  confidence,  not  in  Christ,  whose  power  once  flowed 

e 


1 8  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  [serm. 

through  us,  but  in  ourselves  the  doers.  So  these  dis- 
ciples may  have  thought,  "  We  can  cast  out  this  devil, 
for  we  have  done  the  like  already,"  and  have  forgotten  that 
it  was  not  they,  but  Christ  in  them,  who  had  done  it 

How  widely  this  foe  to  our  faith  operates  amid  the 
multiplied  activities  of  this  busy  age  one  trembles  to  think. 
We  see  all  around  us  a  Church  toiUng  with  unexampled 
expenditure  of  wealth,  and  effort,  and  time.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  repress  the  suspicion  that  the  work  is  out  of 
proportion  to  the  life.  Ah,  brethren,  how  much  of  all 
this  energy  of  effort,  so  admirable  in  many  respects,  will 
He  whose  fan  is  in  His  hand  accept  as  true  service — 
how  much  of  it  will  be  wheat  for  the  garner,  how  much 
chaff  for  the  fire  ?  It  is  not  for  us  to  divide  between  the 
two,  but  it  is  for  us  to  remember  that  it  is  not  impossible  to 
make  of  our  labours  the  most  dangerous  enemy  to  the 
depth  of  our  still  life  hidden  with  Christ  in  God,  and 
that  every  deed  of  apparent  service  which  is  not  the  real 
issue  of  living  faith  is  powerless  for  good  to  others,  and 
heavy  with  hurt  to  ourselves.  Brethren  and  fathers  in 
the  ministry  I  how  many  of  us  know  what  it  is  to  talk 
and  toil  away  our  early  devotion ;  and  all  at  once  to 
discover  that  for  years  perhaps  we  have  been  preaching 
and  labouring  from  mere  habit  and  routine,  like  corpses 
galvanised  into  some  ghastly  and  transient  caricature  of 
life.  Christian  men  and  women,  beware  lest  this  great 
enterprise  of  missions,  which  our  fathers  began  from  the 
holiest  motives  and  in  the  simplest  faith,  should  in  our 
hand,  be  wrenched  away  from  its  only  true  basis,  and  be 
done  with  languid  expectation  and  more  languid  desires  of 


I.]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  19 

success,  from  no  higher  motive  than  that  we  found  it  in 
existence,  and  have  become  accustomed  to  carry  it  on. 
If  that  be  our  reason,  then  we  harm  ourselves,  and 
mask  from  our  own  sight  our  own  unbelief.  If  that 
be  the  case  the  work  may  go  on  for  a  while,  like  a 
clock  ticking  with  fainter  and  fainter  beats  for  a  minute 
after  it  has  run  down ;  but  it  will  soon  cease,  and 
neither  heaven  nor  earth  will  be  much  the  poorer  for  its 
ending. 

Again,  the  atmosphere  of  scornful  disbelief  which  sur- 
rounded the  disciples  made  their  faith  falter.  It  was  too 
weak  to  sustain  itself  in  the  face  of  the  consciousness 
that  not  a  man  in  all  that  crowd  believed  in  their  power ; 
and  it  melted  away  before  the  contempt  of  the  scribes 
and  the  incredulous  curiosity  of  the  bystanders,  without 
any  reason  except  the  subtle  influence  which  the  opinions 
and  characters  of  those  around  us  have  on  us  all 

And,  brethren,  are  not  we  in  danger  to-day  of  losing 
the  firmness  of  our  grasp  on  Christ,  as  our  Saviour  and 
the  world's,  from  a  precisely  similar  cause  ?  We  live  in 
an  atmosphere  of  hesitancy  and  doubt,  of  scornful  rejec- 
tion of  His  claims,  of  contemptuous  disbelief  in  anything 
which  a  scalpel  cannot  cut  We  cannot  but  be  conscious 
that  to  hold  by  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Incarnate  God,  the 
supernatural  Beginning  of  a  new  life,  the  sole  Hope  of 
the  world,  is  to  expose  ourselves  to  the  contempt  of  so- 
called  advanced  and  liberal  thinkers,  and  to  be  out  of 
harmony  with  the  prevailing  set  of  opinions.  The 
current  of  educated  thought  runs  strongly  against  such 
beliefs,  and    I    suppose    that    every    thoughtful    man 

G  % 


90  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  [SBUi. 

among  us  feels  that  a  great  danger  to  our  faith  to-daj 
comes  from  the  force  with  which  that  current  swings 
us  round,  and  threatens  to  make  some  of  us  drag 
our  anchors,  and  drift,  and  strike  and  go  to  pieces 
on  the  sands.  For  one  man  who  is  led  by  the  sheer 
force  of  reason  to  yield  to  the  intellectual  grounds 
on  which  modem  unbelief  reposes,  there  are  twenty 
who  simply  catch  the  infection  in  the  atmosphere.  They 
find  that  their  early  convictions  have  evaporated, 
they  know  not  how ;  only  that  once  the  fleece  was  wet 
with  dew  and  now  it  is  dry.  For  unbelief  has  a  conta> 
gious  energy  wholly  independent  of  reason,  no  less  than 
has  faith,  and  affects  multitudes  who  know  nothing  of 
its  grounds,  as  the  iceberg  chills  the  summer  air  for 
leagues,  and  makes  the  sailors  shiver  long  before  they  see 
its  barren  peaks. 

Therefore,  brethren,  let  us  all  take  heed  to  ourselves, 
lest  we  suffer  our  grasp  of  our  dear  Lord's  hand  to  relax 
for  no  better  reason  than  because  so  many  have  left  His 
side.  To  us  all  His  pleading  love,  which  knows  how 
much  we  are  moulded  by  the  example  of  others,  is 
saying,  in  view  of  the  fashion  of  unbelief,  "  Will  ye  also 
go  away  ?  **  Let  us  answer,  with  a  clasp  that  clings  the 
tighter  for  our  danger  of  being  sucked  in  by  the  strong 
current,  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the 
words  of  eternal  Hfe."  We  cannot  help  seeing  that  the 
creeping  paralysis  of  hesitancy  and  doubt  about  even  the 
power  of  Christ's  name  is  stealing  over  portions  ot  the 
Church,  and  stiffening  the  arm  of  its  activity.  Lips  that 
once  spoke  with  full  confidence  the  words  that  cast  out 


I  ]  THE  SECRET  OF  PO  WER,  si 

devils,  mutter  them  now  languidly  with  half  belief. 
Hearts  that  were  once  full  of  sympathy  with  the  great 
purpose  for  which  Christ  died  are  growing  cold  to  the  work 
of  preaching  the  gospel  to  the  heathen,  because  they  are 
growing  to  doubt  whether,  after  all,  there  is  any  gospel 
at  alL  This  icy  breath,  dear  brethren,  is  blowing  over 
our  Churches  and  over  our  hearts.  And  wherever  it 
reaches,  there  labour  for  Jesus  and  for  men  languishes, 
and  we  recoil  baffled  with  unavailing  exorcisms  dying  in 
our  throats,  and  the  rod  of  our  power  broken  in  our 
hands.  "  Why  could  not  we  cast  him  out  ?  Because  of 
your  unbelief" 

IV.  Our  faith  can  only  be  maintained  hy  constant  devo- 
tion and  rigid  self -denial, 

I  have  already  detained  you  far  too  long,  and  can 
touch  but  very  lightly  on  that  solemn  thought  in  which 
our  Lord  sets  forth  the  condition  of  our  faith,  and  there- 
fore of  our  power.  This  kind  goeth  not  out  but  by  prayer 
and  fasting.  The  discipline  then  which  nurtures  faith  is 
mainly  moral  and  spiritual — not  as  a  substitute  for,  or  to 
the  exclusion  of,  the  intellectual  discipline,  which  is  pre- 
supposed, not  neglected,  in  these  words. 

The  first  condition  of  the  freshness  and  energy  of  faith 
is  constant  devotion.  The  attrition  of  the  world  wears 
it  thin,  the  distractions  of  life  draw  it  from  its  clinging 
hold  on  Christ,  the  very  toil  for  Him  is  apt  to  entice 
our  thoughts  from  out  of  the  secret  place  of  the  most 
High  into  the  busy  arena  of  our  strife.  Therefore  we 
have  ever  need  to  refresh  the  drooping  flowers  of  the 


23  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER,  [serm. 

chaplet  by  bathing  them  in  the  Fountain  of  Life,  to  rise 
above  all  the  fevered  toil  of  earth  to  the  calm  heights 
where  God  dwells,  and  in  still  communion  with  Him  tc 
replenish  our  emptied  vessels  and  fill  our  dimly  burning 
lamps  with  His  golden  oiL  The  sister  of  the  cumbered 
Martha  is  the  contemplative  Mary,  who  sits  in  silence  at 
the  Master's  feet  and  lets  His  words  sink  into  her  soul : 
the  closest  friend  of  Peter  the  apostle  of  action  is  John 
the  Apostle  of  love.  If  our  work  is  to  be  worthy,  it 
must  ever  be  freshened  anew  by  our  gaze  into  His  face ; 
if  our  communion  with  Him  is  to  be  deep,  it  must  never 
be  parted  from  outward  service.  Our  Master  has  left  us 
the  example,  in  that,  when  the  night  fell  and  every  man 
went  to  his  own  home,  Jesus  went  to  the  Mount  of 
Olives ;  and  thence,  after  His  night  of  prayer,  came  very 
early  in  the  morning,  to  the  temple,  and  taught.  The 
stream  that  is  to  flow  broad  and  life-giving  through  many 
lands  must  have  its  hidden  source  high  among  the  pure 
snows  that  cap  the  mount  of  God.  The  man  that  would 
work  for  God  must  live  with  God.  It  was  from  the 
height  of  transfiguration  that  He  came,  before  whom 
the  demon  that  baffled  the  disciples  quailed  and  slunk 
away  like  a  whipped  hound.  This  kind  goeth  not  out 
but  by  prayer. 

The  second  condition  is  rigid  self-denial.  Fasting  is 
the  expression  of  the  purpose  to  control  the  lower  life, 
and  to  abstain  from  its  delights  in  order  that  the  life  of 
the  spirit  may  be  strengthened.  As  to  the  outward  fact, 
it  is  nothing — it  may  be  practised  or  not.  If  it  be,  it 
will  be  valuable  only  in  so  far  as  it   flows  from  and 


L]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER. 


33 


strengthens  that  purpose.  And  such  vigorous  subordi- 
nation of  all  the  lower  powers,  and  abstinence  from  many 
an  inferior  good,  both  material  and  immaterial,  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  if  we  are  to  have  any  wholesome 
strength  of  faith  in  our  souls.  In  the  recoil  from  the  false 
asceticism  of  Roman  Catholicism  and  Puritanism, 
has  not  this  generation  of  the  Church  gone  too  far  in 
the  opposite  direction?  and  in  the  true  belief  that 
Christianity  can  sanctify  all  joys,  and  ensure  the  har- 
monious development  of  all  our  powers,  have  we  not 
been  forgetting  that  hand  and  foot  may  cause  us  to 
,  stumble,  and  that  we  had  better  live  maimed  than  die 
with  all  our  limbs  ?  There  is  a  true  asceticism,  a  disci- 
pline—a "gymnastic  unto  godliness,"  as  Paul  calls  it 
And  if  our  faith  is  to  grow  high  and  bear  rich  clusters 
on  the  topmost  boughs  that  look  up  to  the  sky,  we 
must  keep  the  wild  lower  shoots  close  nipped.  Withoul 
rigid  self-control  and  self-limitation,  no  vigorous  faith. 

And  without  them  no  effectual  work  1  It  is  no  holi- 
day task  to  cast  out  devils.  Self-indulgent  men  will 
never  do  it  Loose-braced,  easy  souls,  that  lie  open  to 
aU  the  pleasurable  influences  of  ordinary  life,  are  no  more 
fit  for  God's  weapons  than  a  reed  for  a  lance,  or  a  bit 
of  flexible  lead  for  a  spear-point  The  wood  must  be 
tough  and  compact,  the  metal  hard  and  close-grained, 
out  of  which  God  makes  His  shafts.  The  brand  that  is 
to  guide  men  through  the  darkness  to  their  Father's  home 
must  glow  with  a  pallor  of  consuming  flame  that  purges 
fts  whole  substance  into  hght  This  kind  goeth  not  ouc 
but  by  prayer  and  fasting.  - 


14  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  [serm. 

Dear  brethren,  what  solemn  rebuke  these  words  have 
for  us  all  to-day!   How  they  winnow  these  works  of 
Christian  activity  which  bring  us  here  this  morning  I 
How  they  show  us  the  hoUowness  of  our  services,  the  self- 
indulgence  of  our  lives,  the  coldness  of  our  devotion,  the 
cowardice  of  our  faith  !    How  marvellous  they  make  the 
fruits  which  God's  great  goodness  has  permitted  us  to  see 
even  from  our  doubting  service  I    Let  us  turn  to  Him 
with  fresh  thankftilness  that  unto  us,  who  are  "  less  than 
the    least   of  all    saints,  is   this  grace  given,  that  we 
ihould  preach  among  the  nations  the  imsearchable  riches 
of  Christ*    Let  us  not  be  driven  from  our  confidence 
that  we  have  a  gospel  to  preach  for  all  the  world ;  but 
strong  in  the  faith  which  rests  on  impregnable  historical 
grounds,  on  our  own  experience  of  what  Christ  has  done 
for  us,  and  on  eighteen  centuries  of  growing  power  and 
unfolding  wisdom,  let  us  thankfully  welcome  all   that 
modem  thought  may  supply  for  the  correction  of  errors  in 
belief,  in  organization,  and  in  life,  that  may  have  gathered 
round  His  perfect  and  eternal  gospel — being  assured,  as 
we  have  a  right  to  be,  that  all  will  but  lift  higher  the  Name 
which  is  above  every  name,  and  set  forth  more  plainly 
that  Cross  which  is  the  true  tree  of  life  to  all  the 
families  of  men.    Let  us  cast  ourselves  before  Him  with 
penitent  confession,  and  say,— O  Lord,  our  strength  I  we 
have  not  wrought  any  deliverance  on  earth ;  we  have 
been  weak  when  all  Thy  power  was  at  our  command ;  we 
have  spoken  Thy  word  as  if  it  were  an  experiment  and  a 
peradventure  whether  it  had  might ;  we  have  let  go  Thy 
kand  and  lost  Thy  garment's  hem  from  our  slack  grasp ; 


L]  THE  SECRET  OF  POWER.  %\ 


we  hare  been  prayerless  and  self-indulgent  Therefore 
Thou  hast  put  us  to  shame  before  our  foet,  and  "our 
enemies  laugh  among  themselves.  Thou  that  dwellest 
between  the  cherubim  shine  forth;  stir  up  Thy 
strength  and  come  and  save  us  1 "  Then  will  the  last 
words  that  He  spoke  on  earth  ring  out  again  from  the 
throne  :  **  All  power  is  given  unto  Me  in  heaven  and  in 
earth.  Go  ye  therefore  and  teach  all  nations ;  and  lo»  I 
am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  worldt* 


SERMON   II.* 

THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICKi 

St.  Mark  tIL  33,  34. 

He  touched  his  tongue  ;  and  looking  up  to  heaven.  He  lighed,  and 
saith,  Ephphatha,  that  is,  Be  opened. 

T70R  what  reason  was  there  this  unwonted  slowness 
^  in  Christ's  healing  works  ?  For  what  reason  was 
there  this  unusual  emotion  ere  He  spoke  the  word  which 
cleansed. 

As  to  the  former  question,  a  partial  answer  may 
perhaps  be  that  our  Lord  is  here  on  half-heathen  ground, 
where  aids  to  faith  were  much  needed,  and  His  power  had 
to  be  veiled  that  it  might  be  beheld.  Hence  the  miracle 
is  a  process  rather  than  an  act ;  and,  advancing  as  it  does 
by  distinct  stages,  is  conformed  in  appearance  to  men's 
works  of  mercy,  which  have  to  adapt  means  to  ends,  and 
creep  to  their  goal  by  persevering  toil  As  to  the  latter 
we  know  not  why  the  sight  of  this  one  poor  sufferer 
should  have  struck  so  strongly  on  the  ever-tremulous 
chords  of  Christ's  pitying  heart ;  but  we  do  know  that  it 
was  the  vision  brought  before  His  spirit  by  this  single 

^  Preached  before  the  Wedeyan  Miisiooaiy  Sodetj. 


SKRM.  II.J     THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,  vj 

instance  of  the  world's  griefs  and  sicknesses,  in  which 
Diass,  however,  the  special  case  before  Him  wai  by  no 
means  lost,  that  raised  His  eyes  to  heaven  kk  mute 
appeal,  and  forced  the  groan  from  His  breast 

The  "  Missionary  spirit "  is  but  one  aspect  of  the  Chris- 
tian spirit  We  shall  only  strengthen  the  former  as  we 
invigorate  the  latter.  Harm  has  been  done,  both  to  our- 
selves and  to  this  great  cause,  by  seeking  to  stimulate 
compassion  and  efforts  for  heathen  lands  by  the  use  of 
other  excitements,  which  have  tended  to  vitiate  even  the 
emotions  they  have  aroused,  and  are  apt  to  fail  us  when 
we  need  them  most  It  may  therefore  be  profitable  if  we 
turn  to  Christ's  own  manner  of  working,  and  His  own 
emotions  in  his  merciful  deeds,  set  forth  in  this  remark- 
able narrative,  as  containing  lessons  for  us  in  our 
missionary  and  evangelistic  work.  I  must  necessarily 
omit  more  than  a  passing  reference  to  the  slow  process  of 
healing  which  this  miracle  exhibits.  But  that,  too,  has  its 
teaching  for  us,  who  are  so  often  tempted  to  think  our- 
selves badly  used,  unless  the  fruit  of  our  toil  grows  up, 
like  Jonah's  gourd,  before  our  eyes.  If  our  Lord  was 
content  to  reach  His  end  of  blessing  step  by  step,  we  may 
well  accept  patient  continuance  in  well-doing  as  the  con- 
dition indispensable  to  reaping  in  due  season. 

But  there  are  other  thoughts  still  more  needful  which 
suggest  themselves.  Those  minute  details  which  this 
evangelist  ever  delights  to  give  of  our  Lord's  gestures, 
words,  looks,  and  emotions,  not  only  add  graphic  force 
to  the  narrative  but  are  precious  glimpses  of  the  very 
heart  of  Christ     That  fixed  gare  into  heaven,  that  groan 


THE  PA TTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm 


irhich  neither  the  glories  seen  above  nor  the  conscious 
power  to  heal  could  stifle,  that  most  gentle  touch,  as  ii 
removing  material  obstacles  from  the  deaf  ears,  and 
moistening  the  stiflf  tongue  that  it  might  move  more 
freely  in  the  parched  mouth,  that  word  of  authority 
which  could  not  be  wanting  even  when  His  working 
seemed  likest  a  servant's,  do  surely  carry  large  lessons  for 
us.  The  condition  of  all  service,  the  cost  of  feeling  at 
which  our  work  must  be  done,  the  need  that  the  helpers 
should  identify  themselves  with  the  sufferers,  and  the 
victorious  power  of  Christ's  word  over  all  deaf  ears — 
these  are  the  thoughts  which  I  desire  to  connect  with  our 
text,  and  to  commend  to  your  meditation  to<lay. 

L  We  have  here  set  forth  the  foundation  and  condition 
of  all  true  work  for  God  in  the  Lor^s  heavenward  look. 

The  profound  questions  which  are  involved  in  the  fact 
that,  as  man,  Christ  held  communion  with  God  in  the 
exercise  of  faith  and  aspiration,  the  same  in  kind  as  ours, 
do  not  concern  us  here.  I  speak  to  those  who  beheve 
that  Jesus  is  for  us  the  perfect  example  of  complete  man- 
hood, and  who  therefore  believe  that  He  is  "  the  leader 
of  faith,"  the  head  of  the  long  procession  of  those  who  in 
every  age  have  trusted  in  God  and  been  lightened.  But, 
perhaps,  though  that  conviction  holds  its  place  in  our 
creeds,  it  has  not  been  as  completely  incorporated  with 
our  thoughts  as  it  should  have  been.  There  has,  no 
doubt  been  a  tendency,  operating  in  much  of  our  evan- 
gelical teaciing,  and  in  the  common  stream  of  orthodox 
opinion,  to  except,  half  unconsciously,  the  exercises  of 


II.]  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE,  29 

the  religious  life  from  the  sphere  of  Christ's  example,  and 
we  need  to  be  reminded  that  Scripture  presents  His  vow, 
"  I  will  put  my  trust  in  Him,"  as  the  crowning  proof  of 
His  brotherhood,  and  that  the  prints  of  His  kneeling 
limbs  have  left  their  impressions  where  we  kneel  before 
the  throne.  True,  the  relation  of  the  Son  to  the  Father 
involves  more  than  communion — namely,  unity.  But  if 
we  follow  the  teaching  of  the  Bible,  we  shall  not  presume 
that  the  latter  excludes  the  former,  but  understand  that 
the  unity  is  the  foundation  of  perfect  communion,  and  the 
communion  the  manifestation,  so  faj  as  it  can  be  mani- 
fested, of  the  unspeakable  unity.  The  solemn  words 
which  shine  like  stars — starlike  in  that  their  height  above 
us  shrinks  their  magnitude  and  dims  their  brightness,  and 
jn  that  they  are  points  of  radiance  partially  disclosing, 
and  separated  by,  abysses  of  unlighted  infinitude — tell  us 
that  in  the  order  of  eternity,  before  creatures  were,  there 
was  communion,  for  "  the  Word  was  with  God,"  and  there 
was  unity,  for  "  the  Word  was  God."  And  in  the  records 
of  the  life  manifested  on  earth  the  consciousness  of  unity 
loftily  utters  itself  in  the  unfathomable  declaration,  "  I 
and  my  Father  are  one ; "  whilst  the  consciousness  of 
communion,  dependent  like  ours  on  harmony  of  will  and 
true  obedience,  breathes  peacefully  in  the  witness  which 
He  leaves  to  Himself :  "  The  Father  has  not  left  Me  alone 
for  I  do  always  the  things  that  please  Him.'* 

We  are  fully  warranted,  then,  in  supposing  that  that 
wistful  gaze  to  heaven  means,  and  may  be  taken  to  sym- 
boHze,  our  Lord's  conscious  direction  of  thought  and 
spin*  to  God  as  He  wrought  His  work  of  mercy.     There 


30  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SER  VICE.         [serm. 

are  two  distinctions  to  be  noted  between  His  communion 
with  God  and  ours  before  we  can  apply  the  lesson  to  our- 
selves. His  heavenward  look  was  not  the  renewal  of 
interrupted  fellowship,  but  rather,  as  a  man  standing 
firmly  on  firm  rock  may  yet  lift  his  foot  to  plant  it  again 
where  it  was  before,  and  settle  himself  in  his  attitude 
before  he  strikes  with  all  his  might;  so  we  may  say 
Christ  fixes  Himself  where  He  always  stood,  and  grasps 
anew  the  hand  that  He  always  held,  before  He  does  the 
deed  of  power.  The  communion  that  had  never  been 
broken  was  renewed  ;  how  much  more  the  need  that  in 
our  work  for  God  the  renewal  of  the — alas  1  too  sadly 
sundered — fellowship  should  ever  precede  and  always 
accompany  our  efiforts  !  And  again,  Christ's  fellowship 
was  with  the  Father.  Ours  must  be  with  the  Father 
through  the  Son.  The  communion  to  which  we  are  called 
is  with  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  we  find  God. 

The  manner  of  that  intercourse,  and  the  various  disci- 
pline of  ourselves  with  a  view  to  its  perfecting,  which 
Christian  prudence  prescribes,  need  not  concern  us  here. 
As  for  the  latter,  let  us  not  forget  that  a  wholesome 
and  iiide-reaching  self-denial  cannot  be  dispensed  with. 
Hands  that  are  full  of  gilded  toys  and  glass  beads  cannot 
grasp  durable  riches,  and  eyes  that  have  been  accustomed 
to  glaring  lights  see  only  darkness  when  they  look  up  tc^ 
the  violet  heaven  with  all  its  stars.  As  to  the  former, 
every  part  of  our  nature  above  the  simply  animal  is 
capable  of  God,  and  the  communion  ought  to  include 
our  whole  being. 

Christ  if  truth  for  the  understanding,  authority  for  the 


THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE. 


31 


wrill,  love  for  the  heart,  certainty  for  the  hope,  fruition  for 
all  the  desires,  and  for  the  conscience  at  once  cleansing 
and  law.  Fellowship  with  Him  is  no  indolent  passive- 
ness,  nor  the  luxurious  exercise  of  certain  emotions,  but 
the  contact  of  the  whole  nature  with  its  sole  adequate 
object  and  rightful  Lord. 

Such  intercourse,  brethren,  lies  at  the  foundation  of 
all  work  for  God.  It  is  the  condition  of  all  our  power. 
It  is  the  measure  of  all  our  success.  Without  it  we  may 
seem  to  realize  the  externals  of  prosperity,  but  it  will  be 
all  illusion.  With  it  we  may  perchance  seem  to  spend 
our  strength  for  naught ;  but  heaven  has  its  surprises ;  and 
those  who  toiled,  nor  left  their  hold  of  their  Lord  in  all 
their  work,  will  have  to  say  at  last  with  wonder,  as  they 
see  the  results  of  their  poor  efforts,  **  Who  hath  begotten 
me  these?  behold,  I  was  left  alone;  these,  where  had 
they  been  ?  ** 

Consider  in  few  words  the  manifold  ways  in  which  the 
indispensable  pre-requisite  of  all  right  effort  for  Christ 
may  be  shown  to  be  communion  with  Christ 

The  heavenward  look  is  the  renewal  of  our  own  vision' 
of  the  calm  verities  in  which  we  trust,  the  recourse  for 
ourselves  to  the  realities  which  we  desire  that  others 
should  see.  And  what  is  equal  in  persuasive  power  to 
the  simple  utteraace  of  your  own  intense  conviction? 
He  only  will  infuse  his  own  religion  into  other  minds, 
whose  religion  is  not  a  set  of  hard  dogmas,  but  is  fused 
by  the  heat  of  personal  experience  into  a  river  of  living 
fire.  It  will  flow  then,  not  otherwise.  The  only  claim 
which  the  hearts  of  men  will  listen  to,  in  those  who  would 


31  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm. 

win  them  to  spiritual  beliefs,  is  that  ancient  one  i  **  That 
which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes,  which  we  have  looked 
upon,  declare  we  unto  you."  Mightier  than  all  argu- 
ments, than  all  "  proofs  of  the  truth  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion/* and  penetrating  into  a  sphere  deeper  than  that 
of  the  understanding,  is  the  simple  proclamation,  "  We 
have  found  the  Messias."  If  we  would  give  sight  to  the 
bUnd,  we  must  ourselves  be  gazing  into  heaven.  Only 
when  we  testify  of  that  which  we  see,  as  one  might  who, 
standing  in  a  beleaguered  city,  discerned  on  the  horizon 
the  filmy  dust-cloud  through  which  the  spearheads  of  the 
deliverers  flashed  at  intervals,  shall  we  win  any  to  gaze 
with  us  till  they  too  behold  and  know  themselves  set 
free. 

The  heavenward  look  draws  new  strength  from  the 
source  of  all  our  might  In  our  work,  dear  brethren, 
contemplating  as  it  ought  to  do  exclusively  spiritual 
results,  what  we  do  depends  largely  on  what  we  are,  and 
what  we  are  depends  on  what  we  receive,  and  what  we 
receive  depends  on  the  depth  and  constancy  of  our  com- 
munion with  God.  "  The  help  which  is  done  upon  earth 
He  doeth  it  all  Himselfl"  We  and  our  organisations  are 
but  the  channels  through  which  this  might  is  poured; 
and  if  we  choke  the  bed  with  turbid  masses  of  drift  and 
heavy  rocks  of  earthly  thoughts,  or  build  from  bank  to 
bank  thick  dams  of  worldliness  compact  with  slime  of  sin, 
how  shall  the  full  tide  flow  through  us  for  the  healing  of 
the  salt  and  barren  places  ?  Will  it  not  leave  its  formei 
course  silted  up  with  sand,  and  cut  for  itself  new  outlets, 
wkile  the  useless  quays  that  once  rang  with  busy  life 


ILI  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,  33 

stand  lilent,  and  *'  the  cities  are  solitary  that  were  full  of 
people"?    We  are 

"  The  trumpet  at  thy  lips,  the  clarion 
Ftill  of  thy  cry,  sonorous  with  thy  breath.** 

Let  us  see  to  it  that  by  fellowship  with  Christ  we  keep 
the  passage  clear,  and  become  recipients  of  the  inspiration 
which  shall  thrill  our  else-silent  spirits  into  the  blast  of 
loud  alarum  and  the  ringing  proclamation  of  the  true  King. 

The  heavenward  look  will  guard  us  from  the  tempta- 
tions which  surround  all  our  service,  and  the  distractions 
which  lay  waste  our  lives.  It  is  habitual  communion 
with  Christ  alone  that  will  give  the  persistency  tliat 
makes  systematic,  continuous  eflforts  for  Him  possible,  and 
yet  will  keep  systematic  work  from  degenerating,  as  Jl 
ever  tends  to  do,  into  mechanical  work.  There  is  no 
greater  virtue  in  irregular  desultory  service  than  in  syste^ 
matized  labour.  The  one  is  not  freer  from  besetting  tempta- 
tions than  the  other,  only  the  temptations  are  of  different 
sorts.  Machinery  saves  manual  toil,  and  multiplies  force. 
But  we  may  have  too  heavy  machinery  for  what  engineers 
call  the  boiler  power, — too  many  wheels  and  shafts  for 
the  steam  we  have  to  drive  them  with.  What  we  want  is 
not  less  organisation,  or  other  sorts  of  it,  but  more  force. 
Any  organisation  will  do  if  we  have  God's  Spirit  breath- 
ing  through  it  None  will  be  better  than  so  much  old 
iron  if  we  have  not 

We  are  ever  apt  to  trust  to  our  work,  to  do  it  without 
a  distinct  recurrence  at  each  moment  to  the  principles  on 
which  it  rests,  and  the  motives  by  which  it  should  be 


34  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE.         [serm. 

actuated, — to  become  so  absorbed  in  details  that  we 
forget  the  purpose  which  alone  gives  them  meaning,  to 
over-estimate  the  external  aspects  of  it,  to  lose  sight  of 
the  solemn  truths  which  make  it  so  grand,  and  to  think 
of  it  as  common-place  because  it  is  common,  as  ordinary 
because  it  is  familiar.  And  from  these  most  real  dangers, 
which  beset  us  all,  there  is  no  refuge  but  the  frequent,  the 
habitual,  gaze  into  the  open  heavens,  which  will  show  us 
again  the  reahties  of  things,  and  bring  to  our  spirits, 
dwarfed  even  by  habits  of  goodness,  the  freshening  of 
former  motives  by  the  vision  of  Jesus  Christ 

Such  constant  communion  will  further  surround  uf 
with  an  atmosphere  through  which  none  of  the  many 
influences  which  threaten  our  Christian  life  and  our 
Christian  work  can  penetrate.  As  the  diver  in  his  bell 
sits  dry  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and  draws  a  pure  air 
from  the  free  heavens  far  above  him,  and  is  parted  from 
that  murderous  waste  of  green  death  that  clings  so  closely 
round  the  translucent  crystal  walls  which  keep  him  safe ; 
so  we,  enclosed  in  God,  shall  repel  from  ourselves  all 
that  would  overflow  to  destroy  us  and  our  work,  and  may 
by  His  grace  lay  deeper  than  the  waters  some  courses  in 
the  great  building  that  shall  one  day  rise,  stately  and 
-nany-mansioned,  from  out  of  the  conquered  waves.  For 
ourselves,  and  for  all  that  we  do  for  Him,  living  com- 
munion with  God  is  the  means  of  power  and  peace,  of 
security  and  success. 

It  was  never  more  needful  than  now.  Feverish  activ- 
ity rules  in  all  spheres  of  life.  The  iron  wheels  of  the 
car  which  bears  the  modem  idol  of  material  progress 


il]  the  pattern  of  service.  35 

whirl  fast,  and  crush  remorselessly  all  who  cannot  keep 
up  the  pace.  Christian  effort  is  multiplied  and  systema- 
tized beyond  all  precedent  And  all  these  things  make 
calm  fellowship  with  God  hard  to  compass.  The  measure 
of  the  difficulty  is  the  measure  of  the  need.  I,  for  my 
part,  believe  that  there  are  few  Christian  duties  more 
neglected  than  that  of  meditation,  the  very  name  of 
which  has  fallen  of  late  into  comparative  disuse, — that 
iugurs  ill  for  the  frequency  of  the  thing.  We  are  so  busy 
thinking,  discussing,  defending,  inquiring ;  or  preaching, 
and  teaching,  and  working,  that  we  have  no  time  and  no 
leisure  of  heart  for  quiet  contemplation,  without  which 
the  exercise  of  the  intellect  upon  Christ's  truth  will  not 
feed,  and  busy  acti-vity  in  Christ's  cause  may  starve  the 
souL  There  are  few  things  which  the  Church  of  this  day 
in  all  its  parts  needs  more  than  to  obey  the  invitation, 
"  Come  ye  yourselves  apart  into  a  lonely  place,  and  rest 
awhile." 

Christ  has  set  us  the  example.  Let  our  prayers  ascend 
as  His  did,  and  in  our  measure  the  answers  which  came 
to  Him  will  not  fail  us.  For  us,  too,  "  praying,  the 
heavens "  shall  be  "  opened,"  and  the  peace-bringing 
spirit  fall  dove-like  on  our  meek  hearts.  For  us,  too, 
when  the  shadow  of  our  cross  lies  black  and  gaunt  upon 
our  paths,  and  our  souls  are  troubled,  communion  with 
heaven  will  bring  the  assurance,  audible  to  our  cars  at 
least,  that  God  will  glorify  Himself  even  in  us.  If,  after 
many  a  weary  day,  we  seek  to  hold  fellowship  with  God 
as  He  sought  it  on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  or  among  the 
tohtudes  of  the  midnight  hills,  or  out  in  the  morning 

D   fl 


56  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm. 

freshness  of  the  silent  wilderness,  like  Him  we  shall  have 
men  gathering  around  us  to  hear  us  speak  when  we  come 
forth  from  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High.  If  our 
prayer,  Uke  His,  goes  before  our  mighty  deeds,  the  voice 
that  first  pierced  the  skies  will  penetrate  the  tomb^  and 
make  the  dead  stir  in  their  grav^-clothes.  If  ©ur  longing 
trustful  look  is  turned  to  the  heavens,  we  shall  not  speak 
in  vain  on  earth  when  we  say,  "  Be  opened." 

Brethren,  we  cannot  do  without  the  communion  which 
our  Master  needed.  Do  we  dehght  in  what  strengthened 
Him  ?  Docs  our  work  rest  upon  the  basis  of  inward 
%llowship  with  God  which  underlay  His  ?  Alas  !  that 
)ur  Pattern  should  be  our  Rebuke,  and  the  readiest  way 
CO  force  home  our  faults  on  our  consciences  should  be 
\he  contemplation  of  the  life  which  we  say  that  we  try 
V)  copy  1 

II.  We  have  here  pity  for  the  evils  we  would  remove 
set  forth  by  the  Lorcts  sigh. 

The  frequency  with  which  this  Evangelist  records  our 
Lord's  emotions  on  the  sight  of  sin  and  sorrow  has  been 
often  noticed.  In  his  pages  we  read  of  Christ's  grief  at 
the  hardness  of  men's  hearts,  of  His  marvelling  because 
of  theu-  unbelief,  of  His  being  moved  with  compassion  for 
an  outcast  leper  and  a  hungry  multitude,  of  His  sighing 
deeply  in  His  spirit  when  prejudiced  hostility,  assuming 
the  appearance  of  candid  inquiry,  asked  of  Him  a  sign 
from  heaven.  All  these  instances  of  true  human  feeling, 
like  His  tears  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  His  weari- 
ness as  He  sat  on  the  well,  and  His  tired  sleep  in  th« 


II.]  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE.  37 

stern  of  the  little  fishing-boat,  and  Hii  hunger  and  His 
thirst,  are  very  precious  as  aids  in  realizing  His  perfect 
manhood  ;  but  they  have  a  worth  beyond  even  that. 
They  show  us  how  the  manifold  ills  and  evils  of  man's 
fate  and  conduct  appealed  to  the  only  pure  heart  that 
ever  beat,  and  how  quickly  and  warmly  it,  by  reason  of 
its  purity,  throbbed  in  sympathy  with  all  the  woe.  One 
might  have  thought  that  in  the  present  case  the  conscious- 
ness that  His  help  was  so  near  would  have  been  sufficient 
to  repress  the  sigh.  One  might  have  thought  that  the 
heavenward  look  would  hare  stayed  the  tears.  But 
neither  the  happiness  of  active  beneficence,  nor  the 
knowledge  of  immediate  cure,  nor  the  glories  abore 
flooding  His  vision,  could  lift  the  burden  fi'om  the 
labouring  breast  And  surely  in  this,  too,  we  may  discern 
a  law  for  aU  our  eflforts,  that  their  worth  shall  be  in  pro- 
portion to  the  expense  of  feeling  at  which  they  are  done. 
They  predict  the  harvests  in  Egypt  by  the  height  whick 
the  river  marks  on  the  gauge  of  the  inundation.  So 
many  feet  there  represents  so  much  fertility.  Tell  me 
the  depth  of  a  Christian  man's  compassion,  and  I  will  tell 
you  the  measure  of  his  fiiiitfulness. 

What  was  it  that  drew  that  sigh  from  the  heart  of 
Jesus  ?  One  poor  man  stood  before  him,  by  no  means 
the  most  sorely  afllicted  of  the  many  wretched  ones 
whom  He  healed.  But  He  saw  in  him  more  than  a 
solitary  instance  of  physical  infirmities.  Did  there  not 
roll  darkly  before  His  thoughts  that  whole  weltering  sea 
of  sorrow  that  moans  round  the  world,  of  which  here  is 
but  one  drop  that  He  could  dry  up  ?    Did  there  not  rise 


3S  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE.         [serm. 

black  and  solid  against  the  clear  blue  to  which  He  had 
been  looking,  the  mass  of  man's  sin,  of  which  these  bodily 
infinnities  were  but  a  poor  symbol  as  well  as  a  conse- 
quence 1  He  saw  as  none  but  He  could  bear  to  see,  the 
miserable  realities  of  human  life.  His  knowledge  of  all 
that  man  might  be,  of  all  that  the  most  of  men  were 
becoming,  His  power  of  contemplating  in  one  awful 
aggregate  the  entire  sum  of  sorrows  and  sms,  laid  upon 
His  heart  a  burden  which  none  but  He  have  ever  endured. 
His  communion  with  Heaven  deepened  the  dark 
shadow  on  earth,  and  the  eyes  that  looked  up  to  God 
and  saw  Him,  could  not  but  see  foulness  where  others  sus- 
pected none,  and  murderous  messengers  of  hell  walking 
in  darkness  unpenetrated  by  mortal  sight  And  all  that 
pain  of  clearer  knowledge  of  the  sorrowfulness  of  sorrow, 
and  the  sinfulness  of  sin,  was  laid  upon  a  heart  in  which 
was  no  selfishness  to  blunt  the  sharp  edge  of  the  pain  nor 
any  sin  to  stagnate  the  pity  that  flowed  from  the  wound. 
To  Jesus  Christ,  life  was  a  daily  martyrdom  before  death 
had  "made  the  sacrifice  complete,"  and  He  bore  our 
griefs,  and  carried  our  sorrows  through  many  a  weary 
hour  before  He  "bare  them  in  His  own  body  on  the  tree,'* 
Therefore,  "  Bear  ye  one  another's  burden,  and  so  fulfil 
the  law  "  which  Christ  obeyed,  becomes  a  command  for 
all  who  would  draw  men  to  Him.  And  true  sorrow,  a 
sharp  and  real  sense  of  pain,  becomes  indispensable  as 
preparation  for,  and  accompaniment  to,  our  work. 

Mark  how  in  us,  as  in  our  Lord,  the  sigh  of  compassion 
u  connected  with  the  look  to  heaven.  It  follows  upon 
that  gaze.     The  evils  are  more  real,  more  terrible,  by 


IL]  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,  39 

their  startling  contrast  with  the  unshadowed  light  which 
lives  above  cloudracks  and  mists.  It  is  a  sharp  shock 
to  turn  from  the  free  sweep  of  the  heavens,  starry  and 
radiant,  to  the  sights  that  meet  us  in  "  this  dim  spot 
which  men  call  earth."  Thus  habitual  communion  witli 
God  is  the  root  of  the  truest  and  purest  compassion.  It 
does  not  withdraw  us  from  our  fellow  feehng  with  our 
brethren,  it  cultivates  no  isolation  for  undisturbed  be- 
holding of  God.  It  at  once  supplies  a  standard  by  which 
lo  measure  the  greatness  of  man's  godlessness,  and  there- 
fore of  his  gloom,  and  a  motive  for  laying  the  pain  of 
these  upon  our  hearts,  as  if  they  were  our  own.  He  has 
looked  into  the  heavens  to  little  purpose  who  has  not 
learned  how  bad  and  how  sad  the  world  now  is,  and 
how  God  bends  over  it  in  pitying  love. 

And  that  same  fellowship  which  will  clear  our  eyes  and 
soften  our  hearts,  is  also  the  one  consolation  which  we 
have  when  our  sense  of  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to 
becomes  deep  to  near  despair.  When  one  thinks  of  the 
Teal  facts  of  human  life,  and  tries  to  conceive  of  the 
frightful  meanness  and  passion  and  hate  and  wretched- 
ness that  has  been  howling  and  shrieking  and  gibbering 
and  groaning  through  dreary  millenniums,  one's  brain 
reels,  and  hope  seems  to  be  absurdity,  and  joy  a  sin 
against  our  fellows,  as  a  feast  would  be  in  a  house  next 
door  to  where  was  a  funeral  I  do  not  wonder  at  settled 
sorrow  faUing  upon  men  of  vivid  imagination,  keen  moral 
sense,  and  ordinary  sensitiveness,  when  they  brood  long 
on  the  world  as  it  is.  But  I  do  wonder  at  the  superficial 
optimism  which  goes  on  with  its  Lttle  prophecies  about 


40  THE  PA TTERN  OF  SERVICE         [serm. 

human  progress,  and  its  rose-coloured  pictures  of  human 
life,  and  sees  nothing  to  strike  it  dumb  for  ever  ir  menu 
^thing  miseries,  blank  failures,  and  hopeless  end. 
Ah  !  brethren,  if  it  were  not  for  the  heavenward  look,  how 
could  we  bear  the  sight  of  earth  !  **  We  see  not  yet  all 
things  put  under  Him."  No,  God  knows,  far  enough 
off  from  that  Man's  folly,  man's  submission  to  the 
creatures  he  should  rule,  man's  agonies,  and  man's  trans- 
gression, are  a  grim  contrast  to  the  Psalmist's  vision. 
If  we  had  only  earth  to  look  to,  despair  of  the  race,  ex- 
pressed in  settled  melancholy  apathy,  or  in  fierce  cynicism, 
were  the  wisest  attitude.  But  there  is  more  within  our 
view  .than  earth ;  "  we  see  Jesus ; "  wc  look  to  the  heaven, 
and  as  we  behold  the  true  man,  we  see  more  than  ever, 
indeed,  how  far  from  that  pattern  we  all  are ;  but  we  can 
bear  the  thought  of  what  men  as  yet  have  been,  when  we 
see  that  perfect  example  of  what  men  shall  be.  The 
root  and  the  consolation  of  our  sorrow  for  men's  evils  is 
communion  with  God. 

Let  me  remind  you,  too,  that  still  more  dangerous  than 
the  pity  which  is  not  based  upon,  and  corrected  by,  the 
look  to  heaven,  is  the  pity  which  does  not  issue  in 
strenuous  work.  It  is  easy  to  excite  people's  emotions ; 
but  it  is  perilous  for  both  the  operator  and  the  subject, 
unless  they  be  excited  through  the  understanding,  and 
pass  on  the  impulse  to  the  will  and  the  practical  powers. 
The  surest  way  to  petrify  a  heart  is  to  stimulate  the 
feelings,  and  give  them  nothing  to  do.  They  will  never 
recover  their  original  elasticity  if  they  have  been  wantonlj 
drawn  forth  thus.      Coldness,  hypocrisy,  q;>uriottS  sen- 


u.]  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE.  41 

timentalism,  and  a  whole  train  of  affectations  and  false- 
hoods follow  the  steps  of  an  emotional  religion,  which 
divorces  itself  from  active  work.  Pity  is  meant  to  impel 
to  help.  Let  us  not  be  content  with  painting  sad  and 
true  pictures  of  men's  woes, — of  the  gloomy  hopelessness 
of  idolatry,  for  instance, — but  let  us  remember  that  every 
time  our  compassion  is  stirred,  and  no  action  ensues,  our 
hearts  are  in  some  measure  indurated,  and  the  sincerity 
of  our  religion  in  some  degree  impaired  The  white-robed 
Pity  is  meant  to  guide  the  strong  powers  of  practical  help 
to  their  work.  She  is  to  them  as  eyes  to  go  before  them 
and  point  their  tasks.  They  are  to  her  as  hands  to 
execute  her  gentle  will  Let  us  see  to  it  that  we  rend 
them  not  apart ;  for  idle  pity  is  unblessed  and  fruitless 
as  a  sigh  cast  into  the  fragrant  air,  and  unpitying  work  is 
more  unblessed  and  fruitless  stilL  Let  us  remember,  too, 
that  Christlike  and  indispensable  as  Pity  is,  she  is  second, 
and  not  first  Let  us  take  heed  that  we  preserve  that  order 
in  our  own  minds,  and  in  our  endeavours  to  stimulate  one 
another.  For  if  we  reverse  it,  we  shall  surely  find  the  foun- 
tains of  compassion  drying  up  long  before  the  wide  stretches 
of  thirsty  land  are  watered,  and  the  enterprises  which  we 
have  sought  to  carry  on  by  appealing  to  a  secondary  motive, 
languishing  when  there  is  most  need  for  vigour.  Here  is  the 
true  sequence  which  must  be  observed  in  our  missionary 
and  evangelistic  work,  "  Looking  up  to  heaven  He  sighed." 
Dear  brethren !  must  we  not  all  acknowledge  woful 
failures  in  this  regard  ?  How  much  of  our  service,  our 
giving,  our  preaching,  our  planning,  has  been  carried  on 
without  one  thought  of  the  ills  and  godlessness  we  profesi 


49  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SER  VICE.         [SERi 

to  be  seeking  to  cure !  If  some  angel's  touch  could 
annihilate  all  that  portion  of  our  activity,  what  gaps  would 
be  left  in  all  our  subscription  lists,  our  sermons,  and  our 
labours  both  at  home  and  abroad !  Annihilate,  do  I  say  ? 
It  is  done  already.  Such  work  is  nothing,  and  comes  to 
nothing.  **  Yea,  it  shall  not  be  planted ;  yea,  it  shall  not 
be  sown ;  and  He  shall  also  blow  upon  it,  and  it  shaU 
wither." 

The  hindrances  to  such  abiding  consciousness  of  and 
pity  for  the  world's  woes  run  all  down  to  the  one  tap-root 
of  all  sin,  selfishness.  The  remedies  run  all  up  to  the 
common  form  of  all  goodness,  the  self-absorbing  com- 
munion with  Jesus  Christ  And  besides  that  mother- 
tincture  of  everything  wrong,  subsidiary  impediments  may 
be  found  in  the  small  amount  of  time  and  effort  which 
any  of  us  give  to  bring  the  facts  of  the  world's  condition 
vividly  before  our  minds.  The  destruction  of  all  emotion 
is  the  indolent  acquiescence  in  general  statements  which 
we  are  too  lazy  or  busy  to  break  up  into  individual  cases. 
To  talk  about  hundreds  of  millions  of  idolaters  leaves 
the  heart  untouched.  But  take  one  soul  out  of  all  that 
mass,  and  try  to  feel  what  his  life  is  in  its  pitchy  darkness, 
broken  only  by  lurid  lights  of  fear  and  sickly  gleams  of 
hope,  in  its  passions  ungovemed  by  love,  its  remorse 
uncalmed  by  pardon,  its  affections  feeling  like  the  tendrils 
of  some  climbing  plant  for  the  stay  they  cannot  find,  and 
in  the  cruel  blackness  that  swallows  it  up  irrevocable  at 
last.  Follow  him  fi-om  the  childhood  that  knows  no 
discipline  to  the  grave  that  knows  no  waking,  and  will 
not  the  solitary  instance  come  nearer  our  hearts  than  the 


IL]  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE.  43 

millions  ?  But  however  that  may  be,  the  sluggishness  01 
our  imaginations,  the  very  familiarity  with  the  awful  facts, 
our  own  feeble  hold  on  Christ,  our  absorption  in  personal 
interests,  the  incompleteness  and  desultoriness  of  our 
communion  with  our  Lord,  do  all  concur  with  our  natural 
selfishness  to  make  a  sadly  large  proportion  of  oui 
apparent  labours  for  God  and  men  utterly  cold  and 
unfeeling,  and  therefore  utterly  worthless.  Has  the 
benighted  world  ever  caused  us  as  much  pain  as  some 
trivial  pecuniary  loss  has  done  ?  Have  we  ever  felt  the 
smart  of  the  gaping  wounds  through  which  our  brothers* 
blood  is  pouring  forth  as  much  as  we  do  the  tiniest 
scratch  on  our  own  fingers  ?  Does  it  sound  to  us  like 
exaggerated  rhetoric  when  a  prophet  breaks  out,  "Oh 
that  my  head  were  waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of 
tears,  that  I  might  weep  night  and  day  1 "  or  when  an 
apostle  in  calmer  tones  declares,  "  I  have  great  heaviness 
and  continual  sorrow  of  heart "  ?  Some  seeds  are  put  to 
steep  and  swell  in  water,  that  tney  may  be  tested  before 
lowing.  The  seed  which  we  sow  will  not  germinate 
unless  it  be  saturated  with  our  tears.  And  yet  the  sorrow 
must  be  blended  with  joy ;  for  it  is  glad  labour  which  is 
ordinarily  productive  labour — ^just  as  the  growing  time  is 
the  changeful  April,  and  one  knows  not  whether  the 
promise  of  harvest  is  most  sure  in  the  clouds  that  drop 
fatness,  or  in  the  sunshine  that  makes  their  depths  throb 
with  whitest  light,  and  touches  the  moist-springing  blades 
into  emeralds  and  diamonds.  The  gladness  comes  from 
the  heavenward  look,  the  pain  is  breathed  in  the  deep- 
drawn  sigh;  both  must  be  united  in  us  if  wc  would 


44  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm. 

"  approve  ourselves  as  the  servants  of  God — as  sorrowful, 
yet  always  rejoicing." 

III.  We  have  here  loving  contact  with  those  whom 
we  would  help  set  forth  in  the  Lord's  touch. 

The  reasons  for  the  variety  observable  in  Christ's 
method  of  communicating  supernatural  blessing  were, 
probably,  too  closely  connected  with  unrecorded  differ- 
ences in  the  spiritual  conditions  of  the  recipients  to 
be  distinctly  traceable  by  us.  But  though  we  cannot 
tell  why  a  particular  method  was  employed  in  a  given 
case,  why  now  ^  word,  and  now  a  symbolic  action, 
now  the  touch  of  His  hand,  and  now  the  hem  of  His 
garment,  appeared  to  be  the  vehicles  of  His  power  we 
can  discern  the  significance  of  these  divers  ways,  and 
learn  great  lessons  from  them  all. 

His  touch  was  sometimes  obviously  the  result  of 
what  one  may  venture  to  call  instinctive  tenderness, 
as  when  He  lifted  the  little  children  in  His  arms  and 
laid  His  hands  upon  their  heads.  It  was,  I  suppose, 
always  the  spontaneous  expression  of  love  and  com- 
passion, even  when  it  was  something  more. 

The  touch  of  His  hand  on  the  ghastly  glossiness 
of  the  leper's  skin  was,  no  doubt.  His  assertion  of 
priestly  functions,  and  of  elevation  above  all  laws  of 
defilement;  but  what  was  it  to  the  poor  outcast,  who 
for  years  had  never  felt  the  warm  contact  of  flesh 
and  blood?  It  always  indicated  that  He  Himself  was 
the  source  of  healing  and  life.  It  always  expressed 
His   identification    of   Himself  with   sorrow   and   sick- 


II.]  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE,  45 

ness.  So  that  it  is  in  principle  analogous  to,  and 
may  be  taken  as  illustrative  of,  that  transcendent  act 
whereby  He  became  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us.  In- 
deed, the  very  word  by  which  our  Lord 's  taking  the 
blind  man  by  the  hand  is  described  in  the  chapter 
following  our  text,  is  that  employed  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  when,  dealing  with  the  true  brotherhood  of 
Jesus,  the  writer  says,  "  He  took  not  hold  of  angels,  but 
of  the  seed  of  Abraham  He  taketh  hold,"  Chriit'i 
touch  is  His  willing  contact  with  man's  infirmities  and 
sins,  that  He  may  strengthen  and  hallow- 

And  the  lesson  is  one  of  universal  application. 
Wherever  men  would  help  their  fellows,  this  is  a 
prime  requisite,  that  the  would-be  helper  should  come 
down  to  the  level  of  those  whom  he  desires  to  aid.  If 
we  wish  to  teach,  we  must  stoop  to  think  the  scholar's 
thoughts.  The  master  who  has  forgotten  his  boyhood  will 
have  poor  success.  If  we  would  lead  to  purer  emotions, 
we  must  try  to  enter  into  the  lower  feelings  which  we 
labour  to  elevate.  It  is  of  no  use  to  stand  at  the  mouth 
of  the  alleys  we  wish  to  cleanse,  with  our  skirts  daintily 
gathered  about  us,  and  smelling-bottle  in  hand,  to  preach 
homilies,  on  the  virtues  of  cleanliness.  We  must  go  in 
among  the  filth,  and  handle  it,  if  we  want  to  have  it 
cleared  away.  The  degraded  must  feel  that  we  do  not 
shrink  from  them,  or  we  shall  do  them  no  good.  The 
leper,  shunned  by  all,  and  ashamed  of  himself  because 
everybody  loathes  him,  hungers  in  his  hovel  for  the  grasp 
of  a  hand  that  does  not  care  for  defilement,  if  it  can 
bring  cleansing.     Even  in  regard  to  common  materia] 


46  THE  PA TTERN  OF  SERVICE.         [serjm. 

helps  the  principle  holds  good  We  arc  too  apt  to  cast 
our  doles  to  the  poor  like  the  bones  to  a  dog,  and  then 
to  wonder  at  what  we  are  pleased  to  think  men's  ingrati- 
tude. A  benefit  may  be  so  conferred  as  to  hurt  more  than 
a  blow ;  and  we  cannot  be  surprised  if  so-called  charity 
which  is  given  with  contempt  and  a  sense  of  superiority, 
should  be  received  with  a  scowl,  and  chafe  a  man's  spirit 
like  a  fetter.  Such  gifts  bless  neither  him  who  gives  nor 
him  who  takes.  We  must  put  our  hearts  into  them,  ii 
we  would  win  hearts  by  them.  We  must  be  ready,  like 
our  Master,  to  take  blind  beggars  by  the  hand,  if  we 
would  bless  or  help  them.  The  despair  and  opprobrium 
of  our  modem  civilization,  the  gulf  growing  wider  and 
deeper  between  Dives  and  Lazarus,  between  Belgravia 
and  Whitechapel,  the  mournful  failure  of  legalized  help, 
and  of  delegated  efforts  to  bridge  it  over,  the  darkening 
ignorance,  the  animal  sensuousness,  the  utter  heathenism 
that  lives  in  every  town  of  England,  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  Christian  houses,  and  near  enough  to  hear  the 
sound  of  public  worship,  will  yield  to  nothing  but  that 
sadly  forgotten  law  which  enjoins  personal  contact  with 
the  sinful  and  the  suffering,  as  one  chief  condition  of 
rasing  them  from  the  bladt  mire  in  which  they  welter. 

But  the  same  law  has  its  special  application  in  regard 
to  the  enterprise  which  summons  us  together  to-day. 

It  defines  the  spirit  in  which  Christian  men  should 
proclaim  the  Gospel  The  effect  of  much  well-meant 
Christian  effort  is  simply  to  irritate.  People  are  very 
quick  to  catch  delicate  intonations  which  reveal  a  secret 
sense,  "  how  much  better,  wiser,  more  devout  I  am  than 


IL]  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SER  VICE.  47 

these  people  1 "  and  wherever  a  trace  of  that  appears  in 
our  work,  the  good  of  it  is  apt  to  be  marred.  We  all 
know  how  hackneyed  the  charge  of  spiritual  pride  and 
Pharisaic  self-complacency  is,  and,  thank  God,  how 
unjust  it  often  is.  But  averse  as  men  may  be  to  the 
truths  which  humble,  and  willing  as  they  may  be  to 
assume  that  the  very  eflfort  to  present  these  to  others  on 
our  parts  implies  a  claim  which  mortifies,  we  may  at  least 
learn  from  the  threadbare  calumny,  what  strikes  men 
about  our  position,  and  what  rouses  their  antagonism  to 
us.  It  is  allowable  to  be  taught  by  our  enemies, 
especially  when  it  is  such  a  lesson  as  this,  that  we  must 
carefully  divest  our  evangelistic  work  of  apparent  pre- 
tensions to  superiority,  and  take  our  stand  by  the  side  of 
those  to  whom  we  speak.  We  cannot  lecture  men  into 
the  love  of  Christ  We  can  but  win  them  to  it  by  show- 
ing Christ's  love  to  them ;  and  not  the  least  important 
element  in  that  process  is  the  exhibition  of  our  own  love. 
We  have  a  Gospel  to  speak  of  which  the  very  heart  is, 
that  the  Son  of  God  stooped  to  become  one  with  the 
lowliest  and  most  sinful ;  and  how  can  that  Gospel  be 
spoken  with  power  unless  we,  too,  stoop  like  Him  ? 

We  have  to  echo  the  invitation,  "  Learn  of  me,  for 
I  am  lowly  in  heart ; "  and  how  can  such  divine  words 
flow  from  lips  into  which  like  grace  has  not  been  poured  ? 
Our  theme  is  a  Saviour  who  shrunk  from  no  sinner,  who 
gladly  consorted  with  publicans  and  harlots,  who  laid  His 
hand  on  pollution,  and  Hi  -.  heart,  full  of  God  and  of  love, 
on  hearts  reeking  with  sin  and  how  can  our  message 
correspond  with  our  theme  if,  even  in  delivering  it,  we 


4S  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE.         [serm. 

are  saying  to  ourselves,  "  The  Temple  of  the  Lord  are 
we  :  this  people  which  knoweth  not  the  law  is  cursed  "  ? 
Let  us  beware  of  the  very  real  danger  which  besets  us  in 
this  matter,  and  earnestly  seek  to  make  ourselves  one  with 
those  whom  we  would  gather  into  Christ,  by  actual 
familiarity  with  their  condition,  and  by  identification  of 
ourselves  in  feeling  with  them,  after  the  example  of  that 
greatest  of  Christian  teachers  who  became  "  all  things  to 
all  men,  that  by  all  means  he  might  gain  some  ; "  after 
the  higher  example,  which  Paul  followed,  of  that  dear 
Lord  who,  being  highest,  descended  to  the  lowest,  and  in 
the  days  of  his  humiliation  was  not  content  with  speaking 
words  of  power  from  afar,  nor  abhorred  the  contact  of 
mortality  and  disease  and  loathsome  corruption  ;  but  laid 
His  hands  upon  death,  and  it  lived  ;  upon  sickness,  and  it 
was  whole ;  on  rotting  leprosy,  and  it  was  sweet  as  the 
flesh  of  a  little  child. 

The  same  principle  might  be  further  applied  to  our 
Christian  work,  as  affecting  the  form  in  which  we  should 
present  the  truth.  The  sympathetic  identification  of  our- 
selves with  those  to  whom  we  try  to  carry  the  Gospel  will 
certainly  make  us  wise  to  know  how  to  shape  our  message. 
Seeing  with  their  eyes,  we  shall  be  able  to  graduate  the 
light.  Thinking  their  thoughts,  and  having  in  some 
measure  succeeded,  by  force  of  sheer  community  of  feeling, 
in  having  as  it  were  got  inside  their  minds,  we  shall 
unconsciously,  and  without  effort,  be  led  to  such  aspects 
of  Christ's  all-comprehensive  truth  as  they  most  need 
There  will  be  no  shooting  over  people's  heads,  if  we  love 
them  well  enough  to  understand  them.     There  will  be  n*^ 


II.]  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE,  49 

toothless  generalities,  when  our  interest  in  men  keeps  their 
actual  condition  and  temptations  clear  before  us.  There 
will  be  no  flinging  fossil  doctrines  at  them  from  a  height, 
as  if  Christ's  blessed  Gospel  were,  in  another  than  the 
literal  sense,  "  a  stone  of  offence,"  if  we  have  taken  our 
place  on  their  level.  And  without  such  sympathy,  these 
and  a  thousand  other  weaknesses  and  faults  will  certainly 
vitiate  much  of  our  Christian  effort 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood  when  I  speak  of  adapting 
our  presentation  of  the  Gospel  to  the  wants  of  those  to 
whom  we  carry  it  That  general  statement  may  express 
the  plainest  dictate  of  Christian  prudence  or  the  most 
dangerous  practical  error.  The  one  great  truth  of  the 
Gospel  wants  no  adaptation  by  our  handling  to  any  soul 
of  man.  It  is  fitted  for  all,  and  demands  only  plain,  loving, 
earnest  statement.  There  must  be  no  tampering  with  cen- 
tral verities,  nor  any  diplomatic  reserve  on  the  plea  of 
consulting  the  needs  of  the  men  whom  we  address.  Everr 
sinful  spirit  needs  the  simple  Gospel  of  salvation  by  Jesu) 
Christ  more  than  it  needs  anything  else.  Nor  does  adap- 
tation mean  deferential  stretching  a  point  to  meet  man's 
wishes  in  our  presentation  of  the  truth.  Their  wishes  have 
to  be  contravened,  that  their  wants  maybe  met  The 
truth  which  a  man  or  a  generation  requires  most  is  the 
truth  which  he  or  they  like  least ;  and  the  true  Christian 
teacher's  adaptation  of  his  message  will  consist  quite  as 
much  in  opposing  the  desires  and  contradicting  the  lies,  ai 
in  seeking  to  meet  the  felt  wants  of  the  world.  Nauseous 
medicines  or  sharp  lancets  are  adapted  to  the  sick  man, 
quite  as  truly  as  pleasant  food  and  soothing  ointment 


so  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm. 

But  remembering  all  this,  we  still  have  a  wide  field  for 
the  operation  of  practical  wisdom  and  loving  common 
sense,  in  determining  the  form  of  our  message  and  the 
manner  of  our  action.     And  not  the  least  important  of 
qualifications  for  solving  the  problems  connected  there- 
with  is  cheerful    identification  of   ourselves    with  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  those  whom  we  would  fain  draw 
to  the  love  of  God.     Such  contact  with  men  will  win 
their  hearts,  as  well  as  soften  ours.     It  will  make  them 
willing  to  hear,  as  Well  as  us  wise  to  speak.     It  will  enrich 
our  own  lives  with  wide  experience  and  multiplied  interests. 
It  will  lift  us  out  of  the  enchanted  circle  which  selfishness 
draws  around  us.     It  will  silently  proclaim  the  Lord  from 
whom  we  have  learnt  it     The  clasp  of  the  hand  will  be 
precious,  even  apart  from  the  virtue  that  may  flow  from 
it,  and  may  be  to  many  a  soul  burdened  with  a  con- 
sciousness of  corruption,  the  dawning  of  belief  in  a  love 
that   does  not  shrink   even  from  its  foulness.     Let  us 
preach  the  Lofd's  touch  as   the   source  of  all   cleans- 
ing.    Let  us   imitate  it  in  our  lives,  that  "if  any  will 
not  hear    the  word,   they  may  without   the  word    be 
won.** 

IV.  We  l«ve  here  the  true  healing  power  and  the 
consciousness  of   wielding    it  set  forth   in   the  Lords 

autheritative  word. 

All  the  rest  of  His  action  was  either  the  spontaneous 
expression  of  His  true  participation  in  human  sorrow, 
or  a  merciful  veiling  of  His  glory  that  sense-bound  eyei 
might  see  it  the  better.     But  the  word  was  the  utteranot 


II.]  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE,  f I 

of  His  will,  and  that  was  omnipotent  The  hand  laid  on 
the  sick,  the  blind  or  the  deaf  was  not  even  the  channel 
of  His  power.  The  bare  putting  forth  of  His  energy 
was  all-sufficient  In  these  we  see  the  loving,  pitying 
man.  In  this  blazes  forth,  yet  more  loving,  yet  more 
compassionate,  the  effulgence  of  manifest  God  There- 
fore so  often  do  we  read  the  very  syllables  with  which 
His  "  voice  then  shook  the  earth,"  vibrating  through  all 
the  framework  of  the  materiail  universe.  Therefore  do 
the  Gospels  bid  us  listen  when  He  rebukes  the  fever, 
and  it  departs ;  when  He  says  to  the  demons,  "  Go,"  and 
they  go ;  when  one  word  louder  in  its  human  articulation 
than  the  howhng  wind  hushes  the  surges ;  when  "  TaUtha 
cumi"  brings  back  the  fair  young  spirit  from  dreary 
wanderings  among  the  shades  of  death.  Therefore  was 
it  a  height  of  faith  not  found  in  Israel  when  the  Gentile 
soldier,  whose  training  had  taught  him  the  power  of 
absolute  authority,  as  heathenism  had  driven  him  to  long 
for  a  man  who  should  speak  with  the  imperial  sway  of  a 
god,  recognised  in  His  voice  an  all-commanding  power. 
From  of  old,  the  very  signature  of  divinity  has  been 
declared  to  be,  "  He  spake,  and  it  was  done ; "  and  He, 
the  breath  of  whose  lips  could  set  in  motion  material 
changes,  is  that  Eternal  Word,  by  whom  all  things  wert 
made. 

What  unlimited  consciousness  of  sovereign  dominion 
sounds  in  that  imperative  from  His  autocratic  Ups  1  It 
is  spoken  in  deaf  ears,  but  He  knows  that  it  will  be 
heard.  He  speaks  as  the  fontal  source,  not  as  th« 
recipient  channel  of  healing.     He  anticipates  no  delay, 

■  s 


52  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm. 

no  resistance.  There  is  neither  effort  nor  uncertamty 
in  the  curt  command.  He  is  sure  that  He  has  power, 
and  He  is  sure  that  the  power  is  His  own. 

There  is  no  analogy  here  between  us  and  Him.  Alone, 
fronting  the  whole  race  of  man,  He  stands — utterer  of 
a  word  which  none  can  say  after  Him,  possessor  of 
unshared  might,  "  and  of  His  fulness  do  all  we  receive." 
But  even  from  that  Divine  authority  and  soUtary  sovereign 
consciousness  we  may  gather  lessons  not  altogether  aside 
from  the  purpose  of  our  meeting  here  to-day.  Of  His 
fulness  we  have  received,  and  the  power  of  the  word  on 
His  lips  may  teach  us  that  of  His  word  even  on  ours,  as 
the  victorious  certainty  with  which  He  spake  His  will  of 
healing  may  remind  us  of  the  confidence  with  which  it 
becomes  us  to  proclaim  His  name. 

His  will  was  almighty  then.  It  is  less  mighty  or  less 
loving  now  ?  Does  it  not  gather  all  the  world  in  the 
sweep  of  its  mighty  purpose  of  mercy?  His  voice 
pierced  then  into  the  dull  cold  ear  of  death,  and  has 
it  become  weaker  since?  His  word  spoken  by  Him 
was  enough  to  banish  the  foul  spirits  that  run  riot,  twine- 
like,  in  the  garden  of  God  in  man'i  soul,  trampling  down 
and  eating  up  its  flowers  and  fruitage  ;  is  the  word  spoken 
€f  Him  less  potent  to  cast  them  out  ?  Were  not  all  the 
mighty  deeds  which  He  wrought  by  the  breath  of  His 
lips  on  men's  bodies  prophecies  of  the  yet  mightier  which 
His  Will  of  love,  and  the  utterance  of  that  Will  by 
stammering  lips,  may  work  on  men's  souls.  Let  us  not 
in  our  laintheartedness  number  up  our  failures,  the  deaf 
that  will  not  hear,  the  dumb  that   will  not  speak  His 


IL]  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE.  53 

praise,  nor  unbelievingly  say  Christ's  own  word  was 
mighty,  but  the  word  concerning  Christ  is  weak  on  our 
lips.  Not  so ;  our  lips  are  unclean,  and  our  words  arc 
weak,  but  His  word — the  utterance  of  His  loving  Will 
that  men  should  be  saved — is  what  it  always  was  and 
always  will  be.  We  have  it,  brethren,  to  proclaim.  Did 
our  Master  countenance  the  faithless  contrast  between 
the  living  force  of  His  word  when  He  dwelt  on  earth, 
and  the  feebleness  of  it  as  He  speaks  through  his 
servant  ?  If  He  did,  what  did  He  mean  when  He  said, 
*'  He  that  believeth  on  me,  the  works  that  I  do  shall  he 
do  also,  and  greater  works  than  these  shall  he  do, 
because  I  go  unto  the  Father  "  ? 

And  the  reflection  of  Christ's  triumphant  consciousness 
of  power  should  irradiate  our  spirits  as  we  do  His  work, 
like  the  gleam  from  gazing  on  God's  glory  which  shone 
on  the  lawgiver's  stem  face  while  he  talked  with  men. 
We  have  everything  to  assure  us  that  we  cannot  fail. 
The  manifest  fitness  of  the  Gospel  to  be  the  food  of  aU 
souls ;  the  victories  of  eighteen  centuries,  which  at  least 
prove  that  all  conditions  of  society,  all  classes  of  civiliza- 
tion, all  varieties  of  race,  all  peculiarities  of  individual 
temperament,  all  depths  of  degradation  and  distances  of 
alienation,  are  capable  of  receiving  the  word,  which,  like 
com,  can  grow  in  every  latitude,  and  though  it  be  an 
exotic  everywhere,  can  everywhere  be  naturalized ;  the 
firm  promises  of  unchanging  faithfiilness,  the  universal 
aspect  of  Christ's  work,  the  prevalence  of  His  continual 
intercession,  the  indwelling  of  His  abiding  Spirit,  and, 
not  least,  the  imerring  voice  of  our  own  experience  of 


54  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm. 

the  power  of  the  truth  to  bless  and  save,— all  these  are 
ours.  In  view  of  these,  what  have  we  to  doubt  ?  Un- 
wavering confidence  is  the  only  attitude  that  corresponds 
to  such  certainties.  We  have  a  rock  to  build  on ;  let  us 
build  on  it  with  rock.  Putting  fear  and  hesitancy  far 
from  us,  let  us  gird  ourselves  with  the  joyful  strength  of 
assured  victory,  striking  as  those  who  know  that  conquest 
is  bound  to  their  standard,  and  through  all  the  dust  of 
the  field  seeing  the  fair  vision  of  the  final  triumph.  The 
work  is  done  before  we  begin  it  "  It  is  finished,"  was  a 
darion  blast  proclaiming  that  all  was  won  when  all 
feemed  lost.  Weary  ages  have  indeed  to  roll  away 
before  the  great  voice  from  heaven  shall  declare  "It  is 
done;"  but  all  that  lies  between  the  two  is  but  the 
gradual  unfolding  and  appropriating  of  the  results  which 
are  already  secured.  The  strong  man  is  bound;  what 
remains  is  but  the  spoiling  of  his  house.  The  head  is 
bruised ;  what  remains  is  but  the  dying  lashing  of  the 
•naky  horror's  powerless  coUs.  "  I  send  you  to  reap 
that  whereon  ye  bestowed  no  labour."  The  tearful 
sowing  in  the  stormy  winter's  day  has  been  done  by  the 
Son  of  man.  For  us  there  remains  the  joy  of  harvest — 
hot  and  hard  work,  indeed,  but  gladsome  too. 

Then,  however  languor  and  despondency  may  some- 
times tempt  us,  thinking  of  slow  advancement,  and  dying 
men  who  fade  from  the  place  of  the  living  before  the 
gradual  light  has  reached  their  eyes,  our  duty  is  plain — 
to  be  sure  that  the  word  we  carry  cannot  fail  You 
remember  the  old  story,  how  when  Jerusalem  was  in  her 
hour  of  direst  need,  and  llw  army  of  Babylon  lay  around 


IL]  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SER  VICE,  $5 

her  battered  walls,  the  prophet  was  bid  to  buy  "  the  field 
that  is  in  Anathoth,  in  the  country  of  Benjamin,"  for  a 
sign  that  the  transient  fury  of  the  invader  would  be 
beaten  back,  that  Israel  might  again  dwell  safely  in  the 
land.  So  with  us,  the  hosts  of  our  king's  enemies  come 
up  like  a  river  strong  and  mighty;  but  all  this  world, 
held  though  it  be  by  the  usurper,  is  still  "  Thy  land,  O 
Immanuel,"  and  over  it  all  Thy  peaceful  rule  shall  be 
established  I 

Many  things  in  this  day  tempt  the  witnesses  of  God  to 
speak  with  doubting  voice.  Angry  opposition,  contemp- 
tuous denial,  complacent  assumption  that  a  belief  in 
old-fashioned  evangelical  truth  is,  ipte  facto^  a  proof  of 
mental  weakness,  abound  Let  them  not  rob  us  of  our 
confidence.  Shame  on  us  if  we  let  ourselves  be  frightened 
firom  it  by  a  sarcasm  or  a  laugh  I  Do  you  fall  back  on 
all  these  grounds  for  assured  reliance  to  which  I  have 
referred,  and  make  the  good  old  answer,  yours,  "  Why, 
herein  is  a  marvellous  thing,  that  ye  know  not  whence 
He  is,  and  yet — He  hath  opened  mine  eyes  ?  ** 

Trust  the  word  you  have  to  speak.  Speak  it  and  work 
for  its  diffusion  as  if  you  did  trust  it  Do  not  preach  it 
as  if  it  were  a  notion  of  your  own.  In  so  far  as  it  is,  it  will 
share  the  fate  of  all  human  conceptions  of  Divine  realities 
— "  will  have  its  day,  and  cease  to  be."  Do  not  speak 
it  as  if  it  were  some  new  nostrum  for  curing  the  ills  of 
humanity,  which  might  answer  or  might  not  Speak  it  as 
if  it  were  what  it  is — the  word  of  God,  which  liveth  and 
abideth  for  ever.  Speak  it  as  if  you  were  what  you  are> 
neither  its  mventors  nor  its  discoverers,  but  only  its  mes- 


56  THE  PATTERN  OF  SERVICE,         [serm. 

sengers,  who  have  but  to  "  preach  the  preaching  which 
He  bids  "  you.  And  to  all  the  wide-spread  questionings 
of  this  day,  filmy  and  air-filling  as  the  gossamers  of  an 
autumn  evening,  to  all  the  theories  of  speculation,  and 
all  the  panaceas  of  unbelieving  philanthropy,  present  the 
solid  certainties  of  our  inmost  experience,  the  yet  more 
solid  certainty  of  that  all-loving  name  and  all-sufficient 
work  on  which  these  repose.  "  W^  know  that  we  are  of 
God,  and  the  whole  world  lieth  in  wickedness.  And  we 
know  that  the  Son  of  God  is  come."  Then  our  pro- 
clamation, "  This  is  the  true  God  and  eternal  life,"  will 
not  be  in  vain ;  and  our  loving  entreaty,  "  Keep  your- 
selves firom  idols,"  will  be  heard  and  yielded  to  in  many 
aland. 

The  sum  of  the  whole  matter  is  briefly  this.  The  root 
of  all  our  efficiency  in  this  great  task  to  which  we,  un- 
worthy, have  been  called,  is  in  fellowship  with  Jesus 
Christ  "  The  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself;  with- 
out me  ye  are  nothing."  Living  near  Him,  and  growing 
like  Him  by  gazing  upon  him.  His  beauty  shall  pass  inta 
our  faces,  His  tender  pity  into  our  hearts,  his  loviny 
identification  of  Himself  with  men's  pains  and  sins  wiU 
fashion  our  lives;  and  the  word  which  He  spoke  with 
authority  and  assured  confidence  will  be  strong  when  we 
ipeak  it  with  like  calmness  of  certain  victory.  If  the 
Church  of  Christ  will  but  draw  close  to  its  Lord  till  the 
fiilness  of  His  life  and  the  gentleness  of  His  pity  flow  into 
heart  and  limbs,  she  wiU  then  be  able  to  breathe  the 
life  which  she  has  received  into  the  prostrate  bulk  of  a 
iead  world.     Only  she  must  do,  as  the  meekest  of  the 


II.]  THE  PA  TTERN  OF  SERVICE.  $7 


prophets  did  in  a  like  miracle,  she  must  not  shrink  from 
the  touch  of  the  cold  clay,  nor  the  odour  of  incipient 
corruption,  but,  lip  to  lip,  and  heart  to  heart,  must  lay 
herself  upon  the  dead,  and  he  will  live. 

The  pattern  for  our  work,  dear  brethren,  is  before  us 
in  the  Lord's  look.  His  sigh,  His  touch,  His  word.  If  we 
take  Him  for  the  example,  and  Him  for  the  motive.  Him 
for  the  strength.  Him  for  the  theme.  Him  for  the  reward  of 
our  service,  we  may  venture  to  look  to  Him  as  the  pro- 
phecy of  our  success,  and  to  be  sure  that  when  our  own 
faint  hearts  or  an  unbelieving  world  question  the  wisdom 
of  our  enterprise,  or  the  worth  of  our  eflforts,  we  may  answer 
as  He  did,  **  Go  and  show  again  those  things  which  ye  do 
hear  and  see  ;  the  bhnd  receive  their  sight,  and  the  lame 
walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear,  the  dead 
are  raised  up,  and  the  poor  have  the  Gospel  preached 
unto  them." 


SERMON   III. 

THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION .• 

Isaiah  IL  9k 

Awike,  awake,  put  on  strength,  O  ann  of  tiie  Lord  |  awake^  at  iA 
tiie  ancient  dayi,  in  the  generations  of  old, 

Isaiah  liL  i. 

Awake,  awake ;  pat  on  thj  strength,  O  Zioa. 

"D  OTH  these  verses  are,  I  think,  to  be  regarded  as  spoken 
^  by  one  voice,  that  of  the  servant  of  the  Lord.  His 
majestic  figure,  wrapped  in  a  light  veil  of  obscurity,  fills 
the  eye  in  all  these  latter  prophecies  of  Isaiah.  It  is  some- 
times clothed  with  divine  power,  sometimes  girded  with 
the  towel  of  human  weakness,  sometimes  appearing  like 
the  collective  Israel,  sometimes  plainly  a  single  person. 

We  have  no  difficulty  in  solving  the  riddle  of  the 
prophecy  by  the  light  of  history.  Our  faith  knows  One 
who  unites  these  diverse  characteristics,  being  God  and 
man,  being  the  Saviour  of  the  body,  which  is  part  of 
Himself  and  instinct  with  His  life.  If  we  may  suppose 
that  He  speaks  in  both  verses,  then,  in  the  one,  as  priest 

*  Preached  before  the  Baptist  Missionary  Sodetj^ 


sx&if.  III.]     THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION,  59 

&nd  intercessor,  He  lifts  the  prayers  of  earth  to  heaven 
ic  His  own  holy  hands — and  in  the  other,  as  messenger 
and  Word  of  God,  He  brings  the  answer  and  command 
of  heaven  to  earth  on  His  own  authoritative  lips — thus 
setting  forth  the  deep  mystery  of  His  person  and  double 
office  as  mediator  between  man  and  God.  But  even  if  we 
set  aside  that  thought,  the  correspondence  and  relation  of 
the  two  passages  remain  the  same.  In  any  case  they  are 
intentionally  parallel  in  form  and  connected  in  substance. 
The  latter  is  the  answer  to  the  former.  The  cry  of  Zion 
is  responded  to  by  the  call  of  God.  The  awaking  of  the 
arm  of  the  Lord  is  followed  by  the  awaking  of  the 
Church.  He  puts  on  strength  m  clothing  us  with  His 
might,  which  becomes  ours. 

The  mere  juxtaposition  of  these  verses  suggests  the 
point  of  view  from  which  I  wish  to  treat  them  on  this 
occasion.  I  hope  that  the  thoughts  to  which  they  lead  may 
help  to  further  that  quickened  earnestness  and  expectancy 
of  blessing,  without  which  Christian  work  is  a  toil  and  a 
fiulure. 

We  have  here  a  common  principle  underlying  both  the 
clauses  of  our  text,  to  which  I  must  first  briefly  ask  your 
attention,  namely — 

L  The  occurrence  in  the  ChurcKt  history  of  successive 
periods  0/ energy  cmd  of  languor. 

It  it  freely  admitted  that  such  alternation  is  not  the 
highest  ideal  of  growth,  either  in  the  individual  or  in  the 
community.  Our  Lord's  own  parables  set  forth  a  more 
taccUtnt  way — the  way  of  uninterrupted  increase,  wherein 


6o  THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION,  [serm. 

the  type  is  the  springing  com,  which  puts  forth  "  first  the 
blade,  then  the  ear,  after  that  the  fiill  com  in  the  ear," 
and  passes  through  all  the  stages  from  the  tender  green 
spikelets  that  gleam  over  the  fields  in  the  spring-tide 
to  the  yellow  abundance  of  autumn,  in  one  unbroken 
season  of  genial  months.  So  would  our  growth  be 
best,  healthiest,  happiest  So  mig?U  our  growth  be,  if 
the  mysterious  life  in  the  seed  met  no  checks.  But,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  Church  has  not  thus  grown.  Rather 
at  the  best,  its  emblem  is  to  be  looked  for,  not  in  com, 
but  in  the  forest  tree — the  very  rings  in  whose  trunk  tell 
of  recurring  seasons  when  the  sap  has  risen  at  the  call  of 
spring,  and  sunk  again  before  the  firowns  of  winter.  I  have 
not  to  do  now  with  the  causes  of  this.  These  will  fall  to 
be  considered  presently.  Nor  am  I  saying  that  such  a 
manner  of  growth  is  inevitable.  I  am  only  pointing  out  a 
(act,  capable  of  easy  verification  and  familiar  to  us  alL 
Our  years  have  had  summerand  winter.  The  evening  and 
the  morning  have  completed  all  the  days  since  the  first 

We  all  know  it  only  too  well  In  our  own  hearts  we 
have  known  such  times,  when  some  cold  chnging  mist 
wrapped  us  round  and  hid  all  the  heaven  of  God's  love 
and  the  starry  lights  of  His  tmth ;  when  the  visible  was 
the  only  real,  and  He  seemed  far  away  and  shadowy ; 
when  there  was  neither  confidence  in  our  belief,  nor  heat 
in  our  love,  nor  enthusiasm  in  our  service;  when  the 
shackles  of  conventionalism  bound  our  souls,  and  the 
fetters  of  the  firost  imprisoned  all  their  springs.  And  we 
have  seen  a  Uke  palsy  smite  whole  regions  and  ages  of  the 
Church  of  God,  so  that  even  the  sensation  of  impotence 


III.]  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION.  6i 

was  dead  like  all  the  rest,  and  the  very  tradition  of 
spiritual  power  had  faded  away.  I  need  not  point  to  the 
signal  historical  examples  of  such  times  in  the  past 
Remember  England  a  hundred  years  ago — but  what  need 
to  travel  so  far.  May  I  venture  to  draw  my  example 
from  nearer  home,  and  ask,  have  we  not  been  in  such 
an  epoch?  I  beseech  you,  think  whether  the  power 
which  the  Gospel  preached  by  us  wields  on  ourselves, 
on  our  -churches,  on  the  world,  is  what  Christ  meant  it 
and  fitted  to  exercise.  Why,  if  we  hold  our  own  in 
respect  to  the  material  growth  of  our  population,  it  is 
as  much  as  we  do.  Where  is  the  joyful  buoyancy  and 
expansive  power  with  which  the  Gospel  burst  into  the 
world?  It  looks  like  some  stream  that  leaps  from  the 
hills,  and  at  first  hurries  from  cliff  to  cliflf  full  of  light 
and  music,  but  flows  slower  and  more  sluggish  as  it 
advances,  and  at  last  almost  stagnates  in  its  flat  marshes. 
Here  we  are  with  all  our  machinery,  our  culture,  money, 
organizations — and  the  net  result  of  it  all  at  the  year's  end 
is  but  a  poor  handful  of  ears.  "  Ye  sow  much  and  bring 
home  little."  Well  may  we  take  up  the  wail  of  the  old 
Psalm,  "  We  see  not  our  signs.  There  is  no  more  any 
prophet;  neither  is  there  any  among  us  that  knoweth 
how  long — arise,  O  Lord,  plead  Thine  own  cause." 

If  then  there  be  such  recurring  seasons  of  languor,  they 
must  either  go  on  deepening  till  sleep  becomes  death,  or 
they  must  be  broken  by  a  new  outburst  of  vigorous  life. 
It  would  be  better  if  we  did  not  need  the  latter.  The 
nninteiTupted  growth  would  be  best ;  but  if  that  has  not 
been,  then   the  ending   of  winter  by   spring,    and   the 


6a  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION,  [serm. 

suppling  of  the  dry  branches,  and  the  resumption  of  the 
arrested  growth  is  the  next  best,  and  the  only  alternative 
to  rotting  away. 

And  it  is  by  such  times  that  the  Kingdom  of  Christ 
always  has  grown.  Its  history  has  been  one  of  successive 
impulses  gradually  exhausted,  as  by  friction  and  gravity, 
and  mercifully  repeated  just  at  the  moment  when  it  was 
ceasing  to  advance  and  had  begun  to  slide  downwards. 
And  in  such  a  manner  of  progress,  the  Church's  history 
has  been  in  full  analogy  with  that  of  all  other  forms  of 
human  association  and  activity.  It  is  not  in  religion 
alone  that  there  are  "  revivals,"  to  use  the  word  of  which 
some  people  have  such  a  dread.  You  see  analogous 
phenomena  in  the  field  of  literature,  arts,  social  and 
pohtical  life.  In  them  all  there  come  times  of  awak- 
ened interest  in  long-neglected  principles.  Truths  which 
for  many  years  had  been  left  to  bum  unheeded,  save  by 
a  faithful  few  watchers  of  the  beacon,  flame  up  all  at  once 
the  guiding  pillars  of  a  nation's  march,  and  a  whole 
people  strike  their  tents  and  follow  where  they  lead.  A 
mysterious  quickening  thrills  through  society.  A  con- 
tagion of  enthusiasm  spreads  Uke  fire,  fusing  all  hearts  in 
one.  The  air  is  electric  with  change.  Some  great  ad- 
vance is  secured  at  a  stride ;  and  before  and  after  that 
supreme  efifort  are  years  of  comparative  quiescence ;  on 
the  farther  side  perhaps  of  preparation,  on  the  nearer 
side  possibly  of  fruition  and  exhaustion — but  slow  and 
languid  compared  with  the  joyous  energy  of  that  moment 
One  day  may  be  as  a  thousand  years  in  the  history  of  a 
people,  and  a  nation  may  be  bom  in  a  day. 


IIL]  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION.  63 

So  also  is  the  history  of  the  Church.  And  thank  God 
it  is  so,  for  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  dawning  of  these 
times  of  refreshing,  the  steady  operation  of  the  Church's 
worldUness  would  have  killed  it  long  ago. 

Surely,  dear  brethren,  we  ought  to  desire  such  a  merci- 
ful interruption  of  the  sad  continuity  of  our  languor  and 
decay.  The  surest  sign  of  its  coming  would  be  a  wide- 
spread desire  and  expectation  of  its  coming,  joined  with 
a  penitent  consciousness  of  our  heavy  and  sinful  slumber. 
For  we  beheve  in  a  God  who  never  sends  mouths  but 
He  sends  meat  to  fill  them,  and  in  whose  merciful  provi- 
dence every  desire  is  a  prophecy  of  its  own  fruition. 
This  attitude  of  quickened  anticipation,  diffusing  itself 
silently  through  many  hearts,  is  like  the  light  air  that 
springs  up  before  sunrise,  or  like  the  solemn  hush  that 
holds  all  nature  listening  before  the  voice  of  the  Lord  in 
the  thunder. 

And  another  sign  of  its  approach  is  the  extremity  of  the 
need.  "  If  winter  come,  can  spring  be  far  behind  ?  "  For 
He  who  is  always  with  Zion  strikes  in  with  His  help  when 
the  want  is  at  its  highest  His  "  right  early  *'  is  often  the 
latest  moment  before  destruction.  And  though  we  are 
all  apt  to  exaggerate  the  need  of  tne  moment  and  the 
severity  of  wr  conflict,  it  certainly  does  seem  that,  whether 
we  regard  the  languor  of  the  Church  or  the  strength  of 
our  adversaries,  succour  delayed  a  Uttle  longer  would 
be  succour  too  late.  "  The  tumult  of  those  that  rise  up 
against  Thee  increaseth  continually.  It  is  time  for  Thee 
to  work.** 

The  juxtaposition  of  these  passages  suggests  for 


64  THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION,  [serm 

II.   TTie  twofold  explanation  of  these  variations. 

That  bold  metaphor  of  God  sleeping  and  waking  is 
often  found  in  Scripture,  and  generally  expresses  the 
contrast  between  the  long  years  of  patient  forbearance, 
during  which  evil  things  and  evil  men  go  on  their  rebel- 
lious road  unchecked  but  by  Love,  and  the  dread  moment 
when  some  throne  of  iniquity,  some  Babylon  cemented  by 
blood,  is  smitten  to  the  dust  Such  is  the  original  ap- 
plication of  the  expression  here.  But  the  contrast  may 
fairly  be  widened  beyond  that  specific  form  of  it,  and 
taken  to  express  any  apparent  variations  in  the  forth- 
putting  of  His  power  The  prophet  carefully  avoids 
seeming  to  suggest  that  there  are  changes  in  God  Him- 
self. It  is  not  He  but  His  arm,  that  is  to  say,  His  active 
energy,  that  is  invoked  to  awake.  The  captive  Church 
prays  that  the  dormant  might  which  could  so  easily  shiver 
Her  prison-house  would  flame  forth  into  action. 

We  may,  then,  see  here  implied  the  cause  of  these 
alternations  of  which  we  have  been  speaking  on  its  Divine 
side,  and  then,  in  the  corresponding  verse  addressed  to 
the  Church,  the  cause  on  the  human  side. 

As  to  the  former.  It  is  true  that  God's  arm  slumbers, 
and  is  not  clothed  with  power.  There  are,  as  a  fact, 
apparent  variations  in  the  energy  with  which  He  works 
in  the  Church  and  in  the  world.  And  they  are  real 
variations,  not  merely  apparent.  But  we  have  to  dis- 
tinguish between  the  power,  and  what  Paul  calls  "  the 
might  of  the  power."  The  one  is  final,  constant,  un- 
changeable. It  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  the  other 
is.     The  rate  of  operation,  so  to  speak,  and  the  amount 


IIL]  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION,  6s 

of  energy  actually  brought  into  play  may  vary,  though  the 
force  remains  the  same. 

It  is  clear  from  experience  that  there  are  these  varia 
tions;  and  the  only  question  with  which  we  are  con 
cerned  is,  are  they  mere  arbitrary  jets  and  spurts  of  a 
Divine  power,  sometimes  gushing  out  in  full  flood,  some- 
times trickling  in  pamfiil  drops,  at  the  unknown  will 
of  the  unseen  hand  which  controls  the  flow?  Is  the 
"  law  of  the  Spirit  of  Life  "  at  all  revealed  to  us ;  or  are 
the  reasons  occult,  if  there  be  any  reasons  at  all  other 
than  a  mere  will  that  it  shall  be  so  ?  Surely,  whilst  we 
never  can  know  all  the  depths  of  His  counsels  and  all  the 
solemn  concourse  of  reasons  which,  to  speak  in  man's 
language,  determine  the  energy  of  His  manifested  power, 
He  has  left  us  in  no  doubt  that  this  is  the  weightiest 
part  of  the  law  which  it  follows — the  might  with  which 
God  works  on  the  world  through  His  Church  varies 
according  to  the  Church's  receptiveness  and  faithfulness. 

Our  second  text  tells  us  that  if  God's  arm  seems  to 
slumber,  and  really  does  so,  it  is  because  Zion  sleeps.  In 
itself  that  immortal  energy  knows  no  variableness.  "  He 
fainteth  not,  neither  is  weary."  "  The  Lord's  arm  is  not 
shortened  that  He  cannot  save."  "  He  that  keepeth 
Israel  shall  neither  slumber  nor  sleep."  But  He  works 
through  us ;  and  we  have  the  solemn  and  awful  power 
of  checking  the  might  which  would  flow  through  us  j  of 
restraining  and  limiting  the  Holy  One  of  Israel.  It 
avails  nothing  that  the  ocean  stretches  shoreless  to  the 
horizon;  a  jar  can  only  hold  a  jarful.  The  receiver's 
capacity    determines    the    amount   received,    and    tht 

r 


66  THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION,  [serm 

receiver's  desire  determines  his  capacity.  The  law  has 
ever  been,  "  according  to  your  faith  be  it  unto  you."  God 
gives  as  much  as  we  will,  as  much  as  we  can  hold,  as 
much  as  we  use,  and  far  more  than  we  deserve.  As 
long  as  we  will  bring  our  vessels  the  golden  oil  will  flow, 
and  after  the  last  is  filled,  there  yet  remains  more  that  we 
might  have  had,  if  we  could  have  held  it,  and  might 
have  held  if  we  would.  "  Ye  are  not  straitened  in  Me, 
ye  are  straitened  in  yourselves." 

So,  dear  brethren,  if  we  have  to  lament  times  of  torpor 
and  small  success,  let  us  be  honest  with  ourselves,  and 
recognise  that  all  the  blame  lies  with  us.     If  God's  arm 
seems  to  slumber  it  is  because  we  are  asleep.    His  power 
is  invariable,  and  the  gospel  which  is  committed  to  our 
trust  has  lost  none  of  its  ancient  power,  whatsoever  men 
may  say.    If  there  be  variations,  they  cannot  be  traced  to 
the  Divine  element  in  the  Church,  which  in  itself  is  con- 
stant, but  altogether  to  the  human,  which  shifts  and  fluc- 
tuates, as  we  only  too  sadly  know.     The  light  in  the 
beacon  tower  is  steady,  and  the  same ;  but  the  beam  it 
throws  across  the  waters  sometimes  fades  to  a  speck,  and 
sometimes  flames  out  clear  and  far  across  the  heaving 
waves,  according  to  the  position  of  the  glasses  and  shadea 
around  it     The  sun  pours  out  heat  as  profiisely  and  aa 
long  on  the  22nd  of  December  as  on  Midsummer-day,  and 
all  the  difference  between  the  frost  and  darkness  and 
glowing  brightness  and  flowering  life,  is  simply  owing  to 
the  earth's  place  in  its  orbit  and  angle  at  which    tKe 
unalterable  ray«  fall  upon  it     The  changes  are  in  the  ter- 
restrial sphere ;  the  heavenly  is  fixed  for  ever  the  same. 


IIL]  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION.  67 

May  I  not  venture  to  point  an  earnest  and  solemn 
appeal  with  these  truths  ?  Has  there  not  been  poured 
over  us  the  spirit  of  slumber  ?  Does  it  not  seem  as  if 
an  opium  sky  had  been  raining  soporifics  on  our  heads  ? 
We  have  had  but  litde  experience  of  the  might  of  God 
amongst  us  of  late  years,  and  we  need  not  wonder  at  it 
There  is  no  occasion  to  look  far  for  the  reason.  You 
have  only  to  regard  the  low  ebb  to  which  religious  life 
has  been  reduced  amongst  us  to  have  it  all  and  more 
than  all  accounted  for.  I  fully  admit  that  there  has  been 
plenty  of  activity,  perhaps  more  than  the  amount  of  real 
life  warrants,  not  a  little  liberality,  and  many  virtues. 
But  how  languid  and  torpid  the  true  Christian  life  has 
been  1  bow  little  enthusiasm  !  how  little  depth  of  com- 
munion with  God  I  how  little  unworldly  elevation  of  soul  I 
how  little  glow  of  love  1  An  improvement  in  social  posi- 
tion and  circumstances,  a  freer  blending  with  the  national 
life,  a  full  share  of  civic  and  political  honours,  a  higher 
culture  in  our  pulpits,  fine  chapels,  and  applauding  con- 
gregations— arc  but  poor  substitutes  for  what  many  of  us 
have  lost  in  racmg  after  them.  We  have  the  departed 
prophets'  mantle,  the  outward  resemblance  to  the  fathers 
who  have  gone,  but  their  fiery  zeal  has  passed  to  heaven 
with  them ;  and  softer,  weaker  men,  we  stand  timidly  on 
the  river's  brink,  invoking  the  Lord  God  of  Elijah,  and 
too  often  the  flood  that  obeyed  them  has  no  ear  for  our 
feebler  voice. 

I  speak  to  you,  brethren,  who  are  in  some  sort  repre- 
sentatives of  our  churches  throughout  the  land,  and  you 
can  tell  whether  my  words  are  on  the  whole  true  or  over- 

f  • 


68  THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION,  [SER^fc 

strained.  We  who  labour  in  our  great  cities,  what  say 
we  ?  If  one  Of  the  number  may  speak  for  the  rest,  we 
have  to  acknowledge  that  commercial  prosperity  and 
business  cares,  the  eagerness  after  pleasure  and  the  exi- 
gencies of  pohtical  strife,  dififused  doubt  and  wide-spread 
artistic  and  literary  culture,  are  eating  the  very  life  out  oi 
thousands  in  our  churches,  and  loweriDg  their  fervour  till, 
like  molten  iron  cooling  in  the  air,  what  was  once  all 
glowing  with  ruddy  heat  is  crusted  over  with  foul  black 
scoriae  ever  encroaching  on  the  tiny  central  warmth. 
You  from  our  rural  churches,  what  say  you?  Have 
you  not  to  speak  of  deepening  torpor  settling  down  on 
quiet  comers,  of  the  passing  away  of  grey  heads  leav- 
ing no  successors,  of  growing  difficulties  and  lessened 
power  to  meet  them,  that  make  you  sometimes  all  but 
despair? 

I  am  not  flinging  indiscriminate  censures.  I  know 
there  are  lights  as  well  as  shades  in  the  picture.  I  am 
not  flinging  censures  at  all  But  I  am  giving  voice  to 
the  confessions  of  many  hearts,  that  our  consciousness 
of  our  blame  may  be  deepened,  and  we  may  hasten  back 
to  that  dear  Lord  whom  we  have  left  to  serve  alone,  as 
His  first  disciples  left  Him  once  to  agonise  alone  under 
the  gnarled  olives  in  Gethsemane,  while  they  lay  sleeping 
in  the  moonlight  Listen  to  His  gentle  rebuke,  full  of 
pain  and  surprised  love,  "  What,  could  ye  not  watch  with 
Me  one  hour  ? "  Listen  to  His  warning  call,  loving  as 
the  kiss  with  which  a  mother  wakes  her  child,  "Arise,  let 
us  be  going" — and  let  us  shake  the  spirit  of  slumber 
from  our  limbs^  and  serve  Him  as  those  unsleeping  spirits 


III.]  THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION,  69 

do,  who  rest  not  day  nor  night  from  vision,  and  work, 
and  praise. 

IIL  Th^  beginning  of  all  awaking  is  the  ChurcKs  earnest 
cry  tc  God, 

It  is  with  tts  as  with  infants,  the  first  sign  of  whose 
awaking  is  a  cry.  The  mother's  quick  ear  hears  it  through 
all  the  household  noises,  and  the  poor  little  troubled 
hfe  that  woke  to  a  scared  consciousness  of  loneliness  and 
darkness,  is  taken  up  into  tender  arms,  and  comforted 
and  cahned.  So,  when  we  dimly  perceive  how  torpid  we 
have  been,  and  start  to  find  that  we  have  lost  our 
Father's  hand,  the  first  instinct  of  that  waking,  which  must 
needs  be  partly  painful,  is  to  call  to  Him,  whose  ear 
hears  our  feeble  cry  amid  the  sound  of  praise  hke  the 
voice  of  many  waters,  that  billows  round  His  throne,  and 
whose  folding  arms  keep  us  as  one  whom  his  mother 
comforteth.  The  beginning  of  all  true  awaking  must 
needs  be  prayer. 

For  every  such  stirring  of  quickened  religious  life  must 
needs  have  in  it  bitter  penitence  and  pain  at  the  discovery 
flashed  upon  us  of  the  wretched  deadness  of  our  past — 
and,  as  we  gaze  like  some  wakened  sleep-walker  into  the 
abyss  where  another  step  might  have  smashed  us  to  atoms, 
a  shuddering  terror  seizes  us  that  must  cry,  *'  Hold  Thou 
me  up,  and  I  shall  be  safe."  And  every  such  stirring  of 
quickened  life  will  have  in  it,  too,  desire  for  more  of  His 
grace,  and  confidence  in  His  sure  bestowal  of  it,  which 
cannot  but  breathe  itself  in  prayer. 

Noi  ii  Zion'i  ciy  to  God  only  the  beginning  and  sigi^ 


TO  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION,  [SIEM. 

of  all  true  awaking ;  it  is  also  the  condition  and  indis- 
pensable precursor  of  all  perfecting  of   recovery  from 

spiritual  languor. 

I  have  already  pointed  out  the  relation  between  the 
waking  of  God  and  the  waking  of  His  Church,  from 
which  that  necessarily  follows.  God's  power  flows  into  our 
weakness  in  the  measure  and  on  condition  of  our  desires. 
We  are  sometimes  told  that  we  err  in  praying  for  the 
outpouring  of  His  Holy  Spirit,  because  ever  since  Pente- 
cost His  Church  has  had  the  gift  The  objection  alleges 
an  unquestioned  fact,  but  the  conclusion  drawn  from  it 
rests  on  an  altogether  false  conception  of  the  manner 
of  that  abiding  gift.  The  Spirit  of  God,  and  the  power 
which  comes  from  Him,  are  not  given  as  a  purse  of  money 
might  be  put  into  a  man's  hand  once  and  for  all,  but  they 
are  given  in  a  continuous  impartation  and  communication 
and  are  received  and  retained  moment  by  moment, 
according  to  the  energy  of  our  desires  and  the  faithfulness 
of  our  use.  As  well  might  we  say.  Why  should  I  ask  for 
natural  life,  I  received  it  half  a  century  ago  ?  Yes,  and 
at  every  moment  of  that  half-century  I  have  continued 
to  Uve,  not  because  of  a  past  gift,  but  because  at  each 
moment  God  is  breathing  into  my  nostrils  the  breath  of 
life.  So  is  it  with  the  life  which  comes  from  His  Spirit 
It  is  maintained  by  constant  efflux  from  the  fountain  of 
Life,  by  constant  impartation  of  His  quickening  breath. 
And  as  He  must  continually  impart,  so  must  we  con- 
tinually receive,  else  we  perish  Therefore,  brethren, 
the  first  step  towards  awaking,  and  the  condition  of  all 
true  revival  in  our  own  sG'Uls  and  in  oar  churches,  is  this 


in.]  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION.  71 

earnest  cry,  "  Awake,  awake,  put  on  strength,  O  arm  of 
the  Lord" 

Thank  God  for  the  outpouring  of  a  long  unwonted 
spirit  of  prayer  in  many  places.  It  is  like  the  melting  of 
the  snows  in  the  high  Alps,  at  once  the  sign  of  spring 
and  the  cause  of  filling  the  stony  river  beds  with  flashmg 
waters,  that  bring  verdure  and  growth  wherever  they 
come.  The  winter  has  been  long  and  hard  We  have 
all  to  confess  that  we  have  been  restraining  prayer  before 
God  Our  work  has  been  done  with  but  little  sense  of 
our  need  of  His  blessing,  with  but  little  ardour  of  desire 
for  His  power.  We  have  prayed  lazily,  scarcely  believing 
that  answers  would  come ;  we  have  not  watched  for  the 
reply,  but  have  been  like  some  heartless  marksman  who 
draws  his  bow  and  does  not  care  to  look  whether  his 
arrow  strikes  the  target  These  mechanical  words,  these 
conventional  petitions,  these  syllables  winged  by  no  real 
desire,  inspired  by  no  faith,  these  expressions  of  devotion, 
far  too  wide  for  their  real  contents,  which  rattle  in  them 
like  a  dried  kernel  in  a  nut,  are  these  prayers  ?  Is  there 
any  wonder  that  they  have  been  dispersed  in  empty  air, 
and  that  we  have  been  put  to  shame  before  our  enemies  ? 
Brethren  in  the  ministry,  do  we  need  to  be  surprised  at 
our  fruitless  work,  when  we  think  of  our  prayerless  studies 
and  of  our  faithless  prayers?  Let  us  remember  that 
solemn  word,  "The  pastors  have  become  brutish,  and 
have  not  sought  the  Lord,  therefore  they  shall  not  prosper, 
and  all  their  flocks  shall  be  scattered."  And  let  us  all, 
brethren,  betake  ourselves,  with  penitence  and  lowly 
consciousness  of  our  sore  need,  to  prayer,  earnest  and 


72  THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION,  [serm. 

importunate,  believing  and  persistent,  like  this  heaven- 
piercing  cry  which  captive  Israel  sent  up  from  her  weary 
bondage. 

Look  at  the  passionate  earnestness  of  it — expressed  in 
the  short,  sharp  cry,  thrice  repeated,  as  from  one  in 
mortal  need ;  and  see  to  it  that  our  drowsy  prayers  be 
like  it  Look  at  the  grand  confidence  with  which  it 
founds  itself  on  the  past,  recounting  the  mighty  deeds  of 
ancient  days,  and  lookmg  back,  not  for  despair,  but  for 
joyful  confidence  on  the  generations  of  old  ;  and  let  our 
faint-hearted  faith  be  quickened  by  the  example,  to  expect 
great  things  of  God.  The  age  of  miracles  is  not  gone. 
The  mightiest  manifestations  of  God's  power  in  the  spread 
of  the  Gospel  in  the  past  remain  as  patterns  for  His 
future.  We  have  not  to  look  back  as  from  low-lying 
plains  to  the  blue  peaks  on  the  horizon,  across  which  the 
Church's  path  once  lay,  and  sigh  over  changed  conditions 
of  the  journey.  The  highest  water-mark  that  the  river 
in  flood  has  ever  reached  will  be  reached  and  over- 
passed again,  though  to^iay  the  waters  may  seem  to  have 
hopelessly  subsided.  Greater  triumphs  and  deliverances 
shall  crown  the  future  than  have  signalised  the  past  Let 
our  faithful  prayer  base  itself  on  the  prophecies  of  history 
and  on  the  unchangeableness  of  God. 

Think,  brethren,  of  the  prayers  of  Christ  Even  He, 
whose  spirit  needed  not  to  be  purged  from  stains  or 
calmed  from  excitement,  who  was  ever  in  His  Father*! 
house  whilst  He  was  about  His  Father's  business,  blend- 
ing in  one,  action  and  contemplation,  had  need  to  pray. 
The  moments  of  His  life  thus  marked  are  very  signifi- 


III.]  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION,  73 

cant  When  He  began  His  ministry,  the  close  of  the 
first  day  of  toil  and  wonders  saw  Him,  far  from  gratitude 
and  from  want,  m  a  desert  place  in  prayer.  When  He 
would  send  forth  His  apostles,  that  great  step  in  advance, 
in  which  lay  the  germ  of  so  much,  was  preceded  by 
soUtary  prayer.  When  the  fickle  crowd  desired  to  make 
Him  the  centre  of  political  revolution,  He  passed  from 
their  hands  and  beat  back  that  earliest  attempt  to 
secularize  His  work,  by  prayer.  When  the  seventy 
brought  the  first  tidings  of  mighty  works  done  in  His 
name.  He  showed  us  how  to  repel  the  dangers  of  success, 
in  that  He  thanked  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  who 
had  revealed  these  things  to  babes.  When  He  stood  by 
the  grave  of  Lazarus,  the  voice  that  waked  the  dead  was 
preceded  by  the  voice  of  prayer,  as  it  ever  must  be. 
When  He  had  said  all  that  He  could  say  to  His  disciples, 
He  crowned  all  with  His  wonderful  prayer  for  Himself, 
for  them,  and  for  us  all  When  the  horror  of  great 
darkness  fell  upon  His  soul,  the  growing  agony  is  marked 
by  His  more  fervent  prayer,  so  wondrously  compact  of 
shrinking  fear  and  filial  submission.  When  the  cross  was 
hid  in  ^the  darkness  of  eclipse,  the  only  words  fi-om  the 
gloom  were  words  of  prayer.  When,  Godlike,  He  dis- 
missed His  spirit,  manlike  He  commended  it  to  His 
Father,  and  sent  the  prayer  from  His  dying  lips  before 
Him  to  herald  His  coming  into  the  unseen  world. 

One  instance  remains,  even  more  to  our  present 
purpose  than  all  these — "  It  came  to  pass,  that  Jesus 
also  being  baptized,  and  praying,  the  heaven  was  opened, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost  descended  in  a  bodily  shape  like 


74  THE  A  WAKING  OF  2J0N,  [serm. 

a  dove  upon  Him."  Mighty  mystery !  In  Him,  too, 
the  Son's  desire  is  connected  with  the  Father's  gift,  and 
the  unmeasured  possession  of  the  Spirit  was  an  answer 
to  His  prayer. 

Then,  brethren,  let  us  lift  our  voices  and  our  hearts. 
That  which  ascends  as  prayer  descends  as  blessing,  like 
the  vapour  that  is  drawn  up  by  the  kiss  of  the  sun  to  fall 
in  freshening  rain.  "  Call  upon  Me,  and  I  will  answer 
thee,  and  show  thee  great  and  hidden  things  which 
thou  knowest  not" 

IV.  The  answering  call  from  God  to  Zion^ 

Our  truest  prayers  are  but  the  echo  of  God's  pro 
mises.  God's  best  answers  are  the  echo  of  our  prayers. 
As  in  two  mirrors  set  opposite  to  each  other,  the  same 
image  is  repeated  over  and  over  again,  the  reflection  of 
a  reflection,  so  here,  within  the  prayer,  gleams  an  earlier 
promise,  within  the  answer  is  mirrored  the  prayer. 

And  in  that  reverberation,  and  giving  back  to  us  of  oui 
petition  transformed  into  a  command,  we  are  not  to  set 
a  dismissal  of  it  as  if  we  had  misapprehended  our  true  want 
It  is  not  tantamount  to.  Do  not  ask  me  to  put  on  mj 
strength,  but  array  yourselves  in  your  own.  The  very 
opposite  interpretation  is  the  true  one.  The  prayer  of 
Zion  is  heard  and  answered.  God  awakes,  and  clothei 
Himself  with  might.  Then,  as  some  warrior  king,  him- 
self roused  from  sleep  and  girded  with  flashing  steel,  bids 
the  clarion  sound  through  the  grey  twilight  to  summon 
the  prostrate  ranks  that  lie  round  his  tent,  so  the  sign  of 
Qod's  awaking  and  the  ^st  act  of  His  conquering  might 


ilL]  THE  AWAKING  OF  ZION.  75 

is  this  trumpet  call—"  The  night  is  far  spent,  the  day  is 
at  hand  " — "  put  oflf  the  works  of  darkness,"  the  night  gear 
that  was  fit  for  slumber — "and  put  on  the  armour  of 
light,"  the  mail  of  purity  that  gleams  and  glitters  even  in 
the  dim  dawn,  God's  awaking  is  our  awaking.  He  puts 
on  strength  by  making  us  strong ;  for  His  arm  works 
through  us,  clothing  itself,  as  it  were,  with  our  arm  of 
flesh,  and  perfecting  itself  even  in  our  weakness. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  forgotten  that  this,  Hke  all  God's 
commands,  carries  in  its  heart  a  promise.  That  earliest 
word  of  God's  is  the  type  of  all  His  latter  behests — "  Let 
there  be  light " — and  the  mighty  syllables  were  creative iiiid. 
self-fulfilling.  So  ever  with  Him,  to  enjoin  and  to  bestow 
are  one  and  the  same,  and  His  command  is  His  con- 
veyance of  power.  He  rouses  us  by  His  summons,  He 
clothes  us  with  power  in  the  very  act  of  bidding  us  put 
it  on.  So  He  answers  the  Church's  cry  by  stimulating  us 
to  quickened  zeal,  and  making  us  more  conscious  of,  and 
confident  in,  the  strength  which,  in  answer  to  our  cry.  He 
pours  into  our  limbs. 

But  the  main  point  which  I  would  insist  on  for  the  few 
moments  that  remain  to  me  is  the  practical  discipline 
which  this  Divine  summons  requires  firom  us. 

And  first,  let  us  remember  that  the  chief  means  of 
qaickened  life  and  strength  is  deepened  communion  with 
Christ. 

As  we  have  been  saying,  our  strength  is  ours  by  con- 
tinual derivation  from  Him.  It  has  no  independent 
existence,  any  more  than  a  sunbeam  could  have,  severed 
from  the  sun.     It  is  ours  only  in  the  sense  that  it  flows 


76  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION,  [serm. 

through  us,  as  a  river  through  the  land  which  it  enriches. 
It  is  His  whilst  it  is  ours,  it  is  ours  when  we  know  it  to 
be  His.  Then,  clearly,  the  first  thing  to  do  must  be  to 
keep  the  channels  free  by  which  it  flows  into  our  souls, 
and  to  maintain  the  connection  with  the  great  Fountain 
Head  unimpaired.  Put  a  dam  across  the  stream,  and 
the  effect  will  be  like  the  drying  up  of  Jordan  before 
Israel  "  The  waters  that  were  above  rose  up  upon  an 
heap,  and  the  waters  that  were  beneath  failed  and  were 
cut  off,"  and  the  foul  oozy  bed  was  disclosed  to  the 
light  of  day.  It  is  only  by  constant  contact  with  Christ 
that  we  have  any  strength  to  put  on. 

That  communion  with  Him  is  no  mere  idle  or  passive 
thing,  but  the  active  employment  of  our  whole  nature 
with  His  truth,  and  with  Him  whom  the  truth  reveals. 
The  understanding  must  be  brought  into  contact  with 
the  principles  of  His  word,  the  heart  must  touch  and 
-beat  against  His  heart,  the  will  meekly  lay  the  hand  in 
His,  the  conscience  ever  draw  at  once  its  anodyne  and 
its  stimulus  from  His  sacrifice,  the  passions  know  His 
finger  on  the  reins,  and  follow  led  in  the  silken  leash  of 
love.  Then,  if  I  may  so  say,  the  prophet's  miracle  will 
be  repeated  in  nobler  form,  and  from  Himself,  the  Life, 
thus  touching  all  our  being,  life  will  flow  into  our  dead- 
ness.  "  He  put  his  mouth  upon  his  mouth,  and  his 
eyes  upon  his  eyes,  and  his  hands  upon  his  hands,  and 
he  stretched  himself  upon  the  child,  and  the  flesh  of 
the  child  waxed  warm." 

So,  dear  brethren,  all  our  practical  duty  is  summed  up 
in  that  one  word,  the  measure  of  our  obedience  to  which 


III.]  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZION,  77 

is  the  measure  of  all  our  strength — "  Abide  in  Me,  and  1 
in  you.  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself, 
except  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye,  except  ye 
abide  in  Me." 

Again,  this  summons  calls  us  to  the  faithful  use  of  the 
power  which,  on  condition  of  that  communion,  we  have. 

There  is  no  doubt  a  temptation,  in  all  times  like  the 
present,  to  look  for  some  new  and  extraordinary  forms  of 
blessing,  and  to  substitute  such  expectation  for  present 
work  with  our  present  strength.  There  is  nothing  new 
to  look  for.  There  is  no  need  to  wait  for  anything  more 
than  we  possess.  Remember  the  homely  old  proverb, 
"You  never  know  what  you  can  do  till  you  try,"  and 
though  we  are  conscious  of  much  unfitness,  and  would 
sometimes  gladly  wait  till  our  limbs  are  stronger,  let  us 
brace  ourselves  for  the  work,  assured  that  in  it  strength 
will  be  given  to  us  that  equals  our  desire.  There  is  a 
wonderful  power  in  honest  work  to  develop  latent 
energies  and  reveal  a  man  to  himself.  I  suppose,  in 
most  cases,  nobody  is  half  so  much  surprised  at  a  great 
man's  greatest  deeds  as  he  is  himsel£  They  say  that 
there  is  dormant  electric  energy  enough  to  make  a 
thunderstorm  in  a  few  raindrops,  and  there  is  dormant 
spiritual  force  enough  in  the  weakest  of  us  to  flash  into 
beneficent  light,  and  peal  notes  of  awaking  into 
many  a  deaf  ear.  The  effort  to  serve  your  Lord  will 
reveal  to  you  strength  that  you  know  not  # 

And  it  will  increase  the  strength  which  it  brings  into 
play,  as  the  used  muscles  grow  like  whipcord,  and  the 
practised  fingers  become  deft  at  their  task,  and  every 


7%  THE  A IV A  KING  OF  ZION,  [serm. 

fiiculty  employed  is  increased,  and  every  gift  wrapped  in 
a  napkin  melts  like  ice  folded  in  a  cloth,  according  to 
that  solemn  law,  "  To  him  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and 
from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that 
which  he  hath." 

Then  be  sure  that  to  its  last  particle  you  are  using 
the  strength  you  have,  ere  you  complain  of  not  having 
enough  for  your  tasks.  Take  heed  of  the  vagrant  expec- 
tations that  wait  for  they  know  not  what,  and  the  apparent 
prayers  that  are  really  substitutes  for  possible  service. 
**  Why  licst  thou  on  thy  face  ?  Speak  unto  the  children 
of  Israel  that  they  go  forward." 

The  Church's  resources  are  sufficient  for  the  Church's 
work,  if  the  resources  were  used.  We  are  tempted  to 
doubt  it,  by  reason  of  our  experience  of  failure  and  our 
consciousness  of  weakness.  We  are  more  than  ever 
tempted  to  doubt  it  to-day,  when  so  many  wise  men  are 
telling  us  that  our  Christ  is  a  phantom,  our  God  a  stream 
of  tendency,  our  Gospel  a  decaying  error,  our  hope  for 
the  world  a  dream,  and  our  work  in  the  world  done.  We 
ftand  before  our  Master  with  doubtful  hearts,  and,  as 
we  look  along  the  ranks  sitting  there  on  the  green  grass, 
and  then  at  the  poor  provisions  which  make  all  our  store, 
we  are  sometimes  tempted  almost  to  think  that  He  errs 
when  He  says  with  that  strange  calmness  of  His,  "  They 
need  not  depart,  give  ye  them  to  eat" 

But  go  out  among  the  crowds  and  give  confidently 
what  you  have,  and  you  will  find  that  you  have  enough 
and  to  spare.  If  ever  our  stores  seem  inadequate,  it  is 
because  they  are  reckoned  up  by  sense,  which  takes 


DL]  THF  AWAKING  OF  ZION.  79 


cognizance  of  the  visible,  instead  of  faith  which  beholds 
the  real.  Certainly  five  loaves  and  two  small  fishes  are 
not  enough,  but  are  not  five  loaves  and  two  small  fishes 
and  a  miracle-working  hand  behind  them,  enough  ?  It 
is  poor  calculation  that  leaves  out  Christ  firom  the  estimate 
of  our  forces.  The  weakest  man  and  Jesus  to  back 
him  are  more  than  all  antagonism,  more  than  sufficient 
for  all  duty.  Be  not  seduced  into  doubt  of  your  power, 
or  of  your  success,  by  others'  sneers,  or  by  your  own 
faint-heartedness.  The  confidence  of  ability  is  ability. 
"  Screw  your  courage  to  the  sticking  place,  and  you  will 
not  fail " — ^and  see  to  it  that  you  use  the  resources  you 
have,  as  good  stewards  of  the  manifold  grace  of  God. 
"  Put  on  thy  strength,  O  Zion.* 

So,  dear  brethren,  to  gather  all  up  in  a  sentence,  let  us 
confidently  look  for  times  of  blessing,  penitently  acknow- 
ledge that  our  own  faithlessness  has  hindered  the  arm  ol 
the  Lord,  earnestly  beseech  Him  to  come  in  His  rejoicing 
strength,  and,  drawing  ever  fresh  power  from  constant 
communion  with  our  dear  Lord,  use  it  to  its  last  drop  for 
Him. 

Then,  like  the  mortal  leader  of  Israel,  as  he  pondered 
doubtingly  with  sunken  eyes  on  the  hard  task  before  his 
untrained  host,  we  shall  look  up  and  be  aware  of  the 
presence  of  the  sworded  angel,  the  immortal  Captain  of 
the  host  of  the  Lord  standing  ready  to  save,  "  putting  on 
righteousness  as  a  breastplate,  an  helmet  of  salvation 
on  His  head,  and  clad  with  zeal  as  a  cloak."  From  hit 
lips,  which  give  what  they  command,  comes  the  call, 
"  Take  unto  you  the  whole  armcui  of  God,  that  ye  may 


8o  THE  A  WAKING  OF  ZTON,        [SERM.  IXU 

be  able  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done 
all,  to  stand."  Hearkening  to  His  voice,  the  city  of  the 
strong  ones  shall  be  made  an  heap  before  our  wondering 
ranks,  and  the  land  open  to  our  conquering  march. 

Wheresoever  we  lift  up  the  cry,  "  Awake,  awake,  put 
on  strength,  O  arm  of  the  Lord,"  there  follows,  swift 
as  the  thunderclap  on  the  lightning  flash,  the  rousing 
gummons,  "  Awake,  awake,  put  on  thy  strength,  O  Zion ; 
put  on  thy  beautiful  garments,  O  Jerusalem ! "  Where- 
soever it  is  obeyed  there  will  follow  in  due  time  the 
joyful  chorus,  as  in  this  context,  "  Sing  together,  ye  waste 
places  of  Jerusalem;  the  Lord  hath  made  bare  His 
holy  arm  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  nations,  and  all  the  ends 
of  the  earth  have  seen  the  salvation  of  our  God.** 


SERMON    IV, 

•TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK."* 

Psalm  cxix.  126-8. 

'It  if  time  for  Thee,  Lord,  to  work :  for  they  have  made  void  Thy 
Law.  Therefore  I  love  Thy  commandments  above  gold  ;  yea, 
above  fine  gold.  Therefore  I  esteem  all  Thy  precepts  concerning 
all  things  to  be  right ;  and  I  hate  every  false  way. 

T  F  much  that  we  hear  be  true,  a  society  to  circulate  Biblei 
is  a  most  irrational  and  wasteful  expenditure  of  energy 
and  money.  We  cannot  ignore  the  extent  and  severity 
of  the  opposition  to  the  very  idea  of  Revelation  even  if 
we  would  ;  we  should  not  if  we  could.  We  are  told  with 
some  exaggeration — the  wish  being  father  to  the  thought 
— that  the  educated  mind  of  the  country  has  broken  with 
Christianity, — a  statement  which  is  equally  remarkable 
for  its  accuracy  and  for  its  modesty.  But  it  has  a  basis 
of  truth  in  the  widespread  disbelief  diffused  through  the 
literary  and  so-called  cultivated  classes.  There  is  no 
need  to  spend  your  time  in  referring  at  length  to  facts 
which  are  only  too  familiar  to  most  of  us.  Every 
sphere  of  knowledge,  every  form  of  literature,  is  enlisted 

*  Prcacked  before  the  National  Bible  Society  of  Scotland. 


82  « TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK:"         [serm. 

in  the  erusade.    Periodicals  that  lie  on  all  our  tables,  works 
of  imagination  that  your  daughters  read,  newspapers  that 
go  everywhere,  are  full  of   it     Poetry,   forgetting    her 
lineage  and  her  sweetness,  strains  her  voice  in  rhapsodies 
of  hostility.    Science,  leaping  the  hedge  beyond  which  she 
at  all  events  is  a  trespasser, — or,  in  finer  language,  "  pro- 
longing its  gaze  backwards  beyond  the  boundary  of  ex- 
perimental evidence," — or,  in  still  plainer  terms,  guessing^ 
— affirms   that  she  discerns  in  matter  the  promise  and 
potency  of  every  form  of  hfe ;  or  presently,  in  a  devouter 
mood,   looking  on  the  budding  glories  of  the   spring, 
declines   to   profess  the  creed    of    Atheism.     Learned 
criticism  demonstrates  the  impossibility  of  supernatural 
religion.   The  leader  of  an  influential  school  leaves  behind 
him  a  voice  hollow  and  sad,  as  from  the  great  darkness, 
in  which  we  seem  to  hear  the  echoes  of  a  life  baffled  in 
the  attempt  to  harmonize  the  logical  and  the  spiritual 
elements  of  a  large  soul :   "  There  may  be  a  God.     The 
evidence  is  insufficient  for  proof.    It  only  amounts  to  one 
of  the  lower  degrees  of  probabihty.'    He  may  have  given 
a  revelation  of  His  will     There  are  grounds  sufficient  to 
remove  all  antecedent  improbability.     The  question  is 
wholly  one  of  evidence ;  but  the  evidence  required  has 
not  been,  and  cannot  be,  forthcoming.     There  is  room 
to  hope  for  a  future  life,  but  theie  is  no  assurance  what- 
ever.    Therefore  cultivate  in  the  region  of  the  imagina- 
tion merely  those  hopes  which  can  never  become  certain- 
ties, for  they  are  infinitely  precious  to  mankind." 

Ah,  brethren,  do  we  not  hear  in  these  dreary  words  tht 
cry  of  the  immortal  hunger  of  the  soul  for  God,  for  the 


IT.]  ''TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORKr  83 

living  God?  The  concessions  they  make  to  Christian 
apologists  are  noteworthy,  but  that  unconscious  con- 
fession of  need  is  the  most  noteworthy.  Surely,  as  the  eye 
prophesies  light,  so  the  longing  of  the  soul  and  the 
capacity  for  forming  such  ideals  is  the  token  that  He  is 
for  whom  heart  and  flesh  do  thus  yearn.  And  how 
blessed  is  it  to  set  over  against  these  dreary  ghosts  that 
call  themselves  hopes,  and  that  pathetic  vain  attempt  to 
find  refuge  in  the  green  fields  of  the  imagination  from 
the  choking  dust  of  the  logical  arena,  the  old  faithful 
words :  ^  This  is  the  record,  that  God  hath  given  to  us 
•temal  life,  and  that  this  life  is  in  His  Son  "  1 

But  my  object  in  referring  to  these  forms  of  opinion 
was  merely  to  prepare  the  way  for  my  subsequent  obser- 
vations ;  I  have  no  intention  of  dealing  with  any  of  them 
by  way  of  criticism  or  refutation.  This  is  not  the  place 
nor  the  audience,  nor  am  I  the  person,  for  that  task. 
But  I  have  thought  that  it  might  not  be  inappropriate  to 
tiiis  occasion  if  I  were  to  ask  you  to  consider  with  me, 
from  these  words,  the  attitude  of  mind  and  heart  to  God's 
word  which  becomes  the  Christian  in  times  of  opposition. 

The  Psalmist  was  surrounded,  as  would  appear,  by 
widespread  defection  from  God's  law.  But  instead  of 
trembling  as  if  the  sun  were  about  to  expire,  he  turns 
himself  to  God,  and  in  fellowship  with  Him  sees  in  all  the 
antagonism  but  the  premonition  that  He  is  about  to  act 
for  the  vindication  of  His  own  work.  That  confidence 
finds  expression  in  the  sublime  invocation  of  our  text 
Then,  with  another  movement  of  thought,  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  departures  makes  him  tighten  his  own  hold 


84  "  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORKP       [serm 

on  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  the  contempt  of  the  gain- 
sayers  quicken  his  love :  "  Therefore  I  love,"  etc.  And,  as 
must  needs  be  the  case,  that  love  is  the  measure  of  his 
abhorrence  of  the  opposite :  and  because  God's  command- 
ments are  so  dear  to  him,  therefore  he  recoils  with  healthy 
hatred  from  false  ways.  So,  I  think,  we  have  a  fourfold 
representation  here  of  our  true  attitude  in  the  face  oJ 
existing  antagonism, — calm  confidence  in  God's  work 
for  His  law ;  earnest  prayer,  which  secures  the  forth- 
putting  of  the  divine  energy  :  an  increased  intensity  of 
cleaving  to  the  word ;  and  a  decisive  opposition  to  the 
ways  which  make  it  void. 

I  ask  your  attention  to  some  remarks  on  each  of  these 
in  their  order.     So,  then,  we  have — 

I.  Calm  confidence  that  times  of  antagonism,  evoke  GotTs 
work  for  His  word. 

Now  I  daresay  that  some  of  you  feel  that  is  not  the 
first  thought  that  should  be  excited  by  the  opposition 
aroundus.  "  We  have  no  sort  of  doubt,"  you  may  say, 
"  that  God  will  take  care  of  His  own  word,  if  there  be 
such  a  thing ;  but  the  question  that  presses  is,  Have  we 
it  in  this  book  ?  Answer  that  for  us,  and  we  will  thank 
you  ;  but  platitudes  about  God  watching  over  His  truth 
are  naught.  The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  meet  these  argu- 
ments and  establish  the  origin  of  Scripture.  Then  it  will 
follow  of  itself  that  it  will  not  perish." 

But  I  take  leave  to  think  we,  as  Christians,  arc  not 
bound  to  revise  the  foundation  belief  of  our  lives  at  the 
rail  of  every  new  antagonist     Life  is  too  short  for  that 


.v.]  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK.'*  «5 

There  is  too  much  work  waiting,  to  suspend  our  activity 
rill  we  have  answered  each  denier.     We  do  not  hold  oui 
faith  in  the  word  of  God,  as  the  winners  at  a  match  do 
their  cups  and  belts,  on  condition  of  wrestling  for  them 
with  any  challenger.     It  is  a  perfectly  legitimate  position 
to  say,  We  hold  a  ground  of  certitude,  from  which  none 
of  this  strife  of  tongues  is  able  to  dislodge  us.     We  have 
heard  Him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  the  Christ 
The   Scriptures  which    we  have  received,    not   without 
knowledge   of  the  grounds   on    which    controversialists 
defend  them,  have  proved  themselves  to  us  by  their  own 
witness.  The  light  is  its  own  proof.  We  have  the  experience 
of  Christ  and  His  law.     He  has  saved  our  souls ;  He  has 
changed  our  lives.    We  know  in  whom  we  have  believed ; 
and  we  are  neither  irrational  nor  obstinate  when  we  avow 
that  we  will  not  pretend  to  suspend  these  convictions  on 
the  issue  of  any  debate.     We  decline  to  dig  up  the  piles 
of  the  bridge  that  carries  us  over  the  abyss  because  voices 
tell  us  that  is  rotten.     It  is  shorter  and  perfectly  reason- 
able to  answer  :  "  Rotten,  did  you  say  ?  Well,  we  have  tried 
it,  and  it  bears ; "  which,  being  translated  into  less  simple 
language,  is  just  the  assertion  of  certitude  built  on  facts 
and  experience  which  leaves  no  place  for  doubt     All  the 
opposition  will  be  broken  into  spray  against  that  rock 
bulwark:  "Thy  words  were  found,  and  I  did  cat  them, 
and  they  are  the  joy  and  rejoicing  of  my  heart" 

So  I  venture  to  think  that,  speaking  to  Christian  men 
and  women,  I  have  a  right  to  speak  on  the  basis  of  oui 
common  beUef,  and  to  encourage  them  to  cherish  it  not- 
withstanding gainsayers.     I  am    not  counselling  stolid 


^  **T/M£  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK."         [serm. 

indifference  to  the  course  of  modern  thought,  nor  desertion 
of  the  duty  of  defence.  We  are  not  to  say,  "  God  will 
interfere ;  I  need  do  nothing."  But  the  task  of  con- 
troversy is  not  for  all  Christians,  ror  the  duty  of  follow- 
ing the  flow  of  opinion.  There  is  plenty  of  more  profit- 
able work  than  that  for  most  of  us.  The  temper  whicb 
our  text  enjoins  is  for  us  all ;  and  this  calm  confidence, 
that  at  the  right  time  God  will  work  for  His  word,  ii  its 
first  element 

This  confidence  rests  upon  our  belief  in  a  divine  Provi- 
dence that  governs  the  world,  and  on  the  observed  laws 
of  its  working.  It  is  ever  His  method  to  send  His  suc- 
cour after  the  evil  has  been  developed,  and  be/ore  it  has 
triumphed.  Had  it  come  sooner,  the  priceless  benefits  of 
struggle,  the  new  perceptions  won  in  controversy  of  the 
many-sided  meaning  and  value  of  His  truth,  the  vigour 
from  conflict,  the  wholesome  sense  of  our  weakness,  had 
all  been  lost  Had  it  come  later,  it  had  come  too  late. 
So  He  times  His  help,  in  order  that  we  may  derive  the 
greatest  possible  benefit  from  both  the  trial  and  the  aid. 
We  have  all  been  dealt  with  so  in  our  personal  histories, 
whereof  the  very  motto  might  be,  "  When  I  said  my  foot 
slippeth.  Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  held  me  up."  The  same 
law  works  on  the  wider  platform.  The  enemy  shall  be 
allowed  to  pass  through  the  breadth  of  the  land,  to 
spread  dread  and  sorrow  through  village  and  hamlet,  to 
draw  his  ranks  round  Jerusalem,  as  a  man  closes  his  hand 
on  some  insect  he  would  crush.  To-morrow^  and  the  as- 
sault will  be  made ;  but  to-night  "  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
went  forth  and  smote  the  camp ;  and  when  they  arose  in 


iv.l  ••  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK?  87 


the  morning,"  expecting  to  hear  the  wild  war-cry  of  the 
conquerors  as  they  stormed  across  the  undefended  walls, 
"  they  were  all  dead  corpses.  "  Then,  aa  it  would  appear, 
a  psalmist,,  moved  by  that  mighty  victory,  cast  it  into 
words,  which  remain  for  all  generations  the  law  of  the  di 
vine  aid,  and  imply  all  that  I  am  urging  now : "  The  Lord 
is  in  the  midst  of  her,  she  shall  not  be  moved ;  the  Lord 
shall  help  her  at  the  dawning  of  the  morning.  "  True, 
we  arc  no  judges  of  the  time.  Our  impatience  is  ever 
outrunning  His  calm  deliberation.  An  illusion  besets  us 
all  that  our  conflicts  with  unbelief  are  the  severest  the 
world  has  ever  seen ;  and  there  is  a  great  deal  of  exag- 
geration on  both  sides  at  present  as  to  the  real  extent 
and  importance  of  existing  antagonism  to  God's  rcvc 
lation.  A  widespread  literature  provides  so  many — I 
would  not  say  empty — spaces  for  any  voice  to  reverbi»- 
rate  in,  that  both  the  shouters  and  the  listeners  are  apt  to 
fancy  the  assailants  are  an  army,  when  they  are  only 
a  handful,  armed  mainly  with  trumpets  and  pitchers. 
There  have  been  darker  days  of  antagonism  than  these. 
He  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste.  This  confidence 
in  the  punctual  wisdom  of  His  working  involves  the  other 
beUef,  that  if  He  does  not  "  work,"  it  is  because  the  time 
is  not  yet  ripe ;  the  negations  and  contradictions  have 
still  an  office  to  fulfil,  and  no  hurt  that  cannot  be  repaired 
has  been  done  to  the  faith  of  th«  Church  or  the  power  of 
the  word. 

Nor  can  we  forecast  the  manner  of  His  working.  He 
can  call  forth  from  the  solitary  sheepfolds  the  defenderi 
of  His  word,  as  has  ever  been  His  wont,  raising  the  man 


88  **  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK:'      [serm. 

when  the  hour  had  come,  even  as  He  sent  His  Son  in  the 
fulness  of  time.  He  can  lead  science  on  to  deeper  truth ; 
He  can  quicken  His  Church  into  new  life ;  He  can  guide 
the  spirit  of  an  age.  We  believe  that  the  history  of  the 
world  is  the  unfolding  of  His  will,  and  the  course  of 
opinion  guided  in  its  channel  by  the  Voice  which  the 
depths  have  obeyed  from  of  old.  Therefore  we  wait  for 
His  working,  expecting  no  miracle,  prescribing  no  time, 
hurried  by  no  impatience,  avoiding  no  task  of  defence 
or  confession ;  but  knowing  that,  unhasting  and  unresting 
He  will  arise  when  the  storm  is  loudest,  and  somehow 
will  say,  "  Peace  !  be  still.  "  Then  they  who  had  not 
cast  away  their  confidence  for  any  fashion  of  unbelief  that 
passeth  away  will  rejoice  as  they  sing,  "  Lo  1  this  is  our 
God  ;  we  have  waited  for  Him,  and  He  will  save  us." 

This  confidence  is  confirmed  by  the  history  of  aU  the 
past  assaults  on  Scripture. 

The  whole  history  of  the  origin,  collection,  preservation, 
transmission,  diffusion,  and  present  influence  of  the  Bible 
involves  so  much  that  is  surprising  and  unique,  as  to 
amount  to  at  least  a  strong  presumption  of  a  divine  care. 
Among  all  the  remarkable  things  about  the  Book,  nothing 
is  more  remarkable  than  that  there  it  is,  after  all  that  has 
happened.  When  we  think  of  the  gaps  and  losses  in 
ancient  literature,  and  the  long  stormy  centuries  that  lie 
between  us  and  its  earlier  pages,  we  can  faintly  estimate 
the  chances  against  their  preservation.  It  is  strange  that 
the  Jewish  race  should  have  so  jealously  preserved  books 
which  certainly  did  not  flatter  national  pride,  which  put 
t   mortifying  explanation  on  national   disasters,  which 


IV.]  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK,"*  89 

painted  them  and  their  fathers  in  dark  colours,  which 
proclaimed  truths  they  never  loved,  and  breathed  a  spirit 
they  never  caught.  It  is  stranger  still,  that  in  the  long 
years  of  dispersion  the  very  vices  and  limitations  of  the 
people  subserved  the  same  end,  and  that  stiff  pedantry 
and  laborious  trifling — the  poorest  form  of  intellectual 
activity — should  have  guarded  the  letter  of  the  word,  as 
the  coral  insects  painfully  build  up  their  walls  round  some 
fair  island  of  the  Southern  Sea.  When  one  thinks  of  the 
great  gutf  of  language  between  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments, of  the  variety  of  authors,  periods,  subjects,  literary 
form,  the  animosities  of  Christian  and  Jew,  it  is  strange 
that  we  have  the  Book  here  one,  and  that  all  these  parts 
should  blend  into  unity,  unless  the  source  and  theme 
were  one,  and  One  Hand  had  shaped  each,  and  cared  for 
the  gathering  together  of  all. 

It  has  been  demonstrated  over  and  over  agna  to  have 
no  pretensions  to  a  divine  revelation ;  and  yet  here  it  is, 
believed  by  millions,  and  rooted  so  firmly  in  European 
language  and  thought,  that  no  revolution  short  of  a  return 
to  barbarism  can  abolish  it.  It  has  been  proved  to  be  a 
careless,  unauthenticated  collection  of  works  of  different 
periods,  styles,  and  schools  of  thought,  having  no  unity 
but  what  is  given  by  the  bookbinder :  and  lo  !  here  it  is 
still,  not  disintegrated,  much  less  dissolved.  Each  age 
brings  its  own  destructive  criticism  to  play  on  it,  confess- 
ing thereby  that  its  predecessors  have  effected  nothing ; 
for,  as  the  Bible  says  about  sacrifices,  so  we  may  say  about 
assaults  on  Scripture,  "  If  they  had  done  their  work,  would 
they  not  have  ceased  to  be  offered  ?  *    And  the  effect  of 


90  **  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK:"        [serm. 

the  heaviest  artillery  that  can  be  brought  into  position  is 
as  transient  as  the  boom  of  their  report  and  the  puflf  of 
their  smoke.  Why,  who  knows  anything  about  the 
world's  wonders  of  books  that  a  hundred  years  ago  made 
good  men's  hearts  tremble  for  the  ark  of  God  ?  You  may 
find  them  in  dusty  rows  on  the  top  shelves  of  great 
libraries.  But  if  their  names  had  not  occurred  in  the 
pages  of  Christian  apologists,  flies  in  amber,  nobody  in 
this  generation  would  ever  have  heard  of  them.  And 
still  more  conspicuously  is  it  so  with  earlier  examples  of 
the  same  kind.  Their  work  is  as  hopelessly  dead  as 
they.  And  the  Book  seems  none  the  worse  for  all  the 
shot — like  the  rock  that  a  ship  fired  at  all  night,  taking 
it  for  an  enemy,  and  could  not  provoke  to  answer  nor 
succeed  in  sinking.  Surely  some  dim  suspicion  of  the 
hopelessness  of  the  attempt  might  creep  into  the  hearts 
of  men  who  know  what  has  been.  Surely  the  signal 
failure  and  swift  fading  away  of  all  former  efforts  to  de- 
throne the  Bible  might  lead  to  the  question,  "  Does  it  not 
lay  its  deep  foundations  in  the  heart  of  man  and  the 
purpose  of  God,  too  deep  to  be  reached  by  the  short 
tools  of  mere  criticism,  too  massive  to  be  overthrown  by 
all  the  weight  of  materialistic  science  ?  "  It  is  with  the 
Bible  as  it  was  with  the  apostle,  on  whose  hand,  as  he 
crouched  over  the  newly-lit  flame,  the  viper  fastened, 
"  and  he  shook  off  the  beast  into  the  fire,  and  felt  no 
harm."  The  barbarous  people,  who  changed  their 
minds  after  they  had  looked  a  great  while  and  saw  no 
harm  come  to  him,  were  not  altogether  wrong,  and  might 
teach  a  lesson  to  some   modem   wise   men,  if,   among 


IV.]  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK*  91 

the  otl  er  facts  which  they  deal  with,  they  would  try  to 
estinate  this  fact  of  the  continued  existence  and  influence 
of  Scr'pture,  and  the  failure  thus  far  of  all  attempt!  to 
shake  its  throne  or  break  the  sweet  influences  of  its 
bands. 

Brethren,  we,  at  all  events,  should  learn  the  lesson  of 
historical  experience.  The  gospel,  and  the  Book  which 
is  its  record,  have  met  with  eager,  eloquent,  learned 
antagonists  before  to-day,  and  they  have  passed.  Little 
more  than  a  generation  has  sufficed  to  sweep  them  to 
oblivion.  So  it  will  be  again.  The  forms  of  opinion,  the 
tendencies  of  thought,  which  now  seem  to  some  of  its 
enemies  so  certain  to  conquer,  will  follow  these  forgotten 
precursors  into  the  dim  land.  May  we  not  see  them — 
these  ancient  discrowned  kings  that  ruled  over  men  and 
rebelled  against  Christ,  these  beliefs  that  no  man  now 
believes — rising  from  their  shadowy  thrones  in  the  under- 
world to  meet  the  now  living  and  ruling  unbelief,  when  it, 
too,  shall  have  gone  down  to  them?  "All  they  shall 
speak  and  say  unto  thee,  Art  thou  also  become  weak 
as  we  ?  art  thou  become  like  unto  us  ? "  Yes,  each  in 
its  turn  "  becomes  but  a  noise  "  when  he  "  passes  the  time 
appointed" — the  time  when  God  arises  to  do  His  act 
and  vindicate  His  word. 

Wc  have  here,  secondly,  Earnest  prayer  which  hringt 
that  divine  energy. 

The  confidence  that  God  will  work  underlies  and  givei 
energy  to  the  prayer  that  God  would  work.  The  belief 
that  a  given  thing  is  in  the  line  of  the  divine  purpose 


92  "  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK,""        [serm. 

is  not  a  reason  for  saying,  "We  need  not  pray;  God 
means  to  do  it,"  but  is  a  reason  for  saying  on  the  contrary, 
"  God  means  to  do  it ;  let  us  pray  for  it"  And  this 
prayer,  based  upon  the  confidence  that  it  is  His  will,  is 
the  best  service  that  any  of  us  can  render  to  the  gospel 
in  troublous  times. 

I  shall  have  a  word  to  say  presently  on  the  sort  of  out- 
flow of  the  divine  energy  which  we  should  principally 
expect  and  desire;  but  let  me  first  remind  you,  very 
briefly,  how  the  prayers  of  Christian  men  do  condition — 
I  had  almost  said  regulate— that  outflow. 

I  need  not  put  this  matter  on  its  abstract  and  metaphy- 
sical side.  Two  facts  are  enough  for  my  present  purpose 
— one,  a  truth  of  faith,  that  the  actual  power  wherewith 
God  works  for  His  word  remains  ever  the  same ;  one,  a 
truth  of  observation  and  experience,  that  there  are 
variations  in  the  intensity  of  its  operations  and  effects  in 
the  world.  Wherefore  ?  Surely  because  of  the  variations 
in  the  human  recipients  and  organs  of  the  power.  Here 
at  one  end  is  the  great  fountain,  ever  brimming.  Draw 
from  it  ever  so  much,  it  sinks  not  one  hair's-breadth  in 
vts  pure  basin.  Here,  on  the  other  side,  is  an  intermittent 
flow,  sometimes  in  scanty  driblets,  sometimes  in  painful 
drops,  sometimes  more  full  and  free  on  the  pastures  of 
the  wilderness.  Wherefore  these  jerks  and  spasms  ?  It 
must  be  something  stopping  the  pipe.  Yes,  of  course. 
God's  might  is  ever  the  same,  but  our  capacity  of  receiv- 
ing and  transmitting  that  might  varies,  and  with  it  varies 
the  energy  with  which  that  unchanging  power  is  exerted 
in  the  world.     Our  faith,  our  earnestness  of  desire,  our 


IV.]  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK.''  93 

ardour  and  confidence  of  prayer,  our  faithfulness  of  stew- 
ardship and  strenuousness  of  use,  measure  the  amount  of 
the  unmeasured  grace  which  we  can  receive.  So  long  as 
our  vessels  are  brought,  the  golden  oil  does  not  cease  to 
flow.  When  they  are  full,  it  stays.  The  principle  of 
the  variation  in  actual  manifestation  of  the  unvarying 
might  of  God  is  found  in  the  Lord's  words :  "  According 
to  your  faith  be  it  unto  you."  So,  then,  we  may  expect 
periods  of  quickened  energy  in  the  forth-putting  of  the 
divine  power.  And  these  will  correspond  to,  and  be  con- 
sequent on,  the  faithful  prayers  of  Christian  men.  Sec 
to  it,  brethren,  that  you  keep  the  channels  clear,  that  the 
flow  may  continue  full  and  increase.  Let  no  mud  and 
ooze  of  the  world,  no  big  blocks  of  sin  nor  subtler  ac- 
cumulations of  small  negligences,  choke  them  again. 
Above  all,  by  simple,  earnest  prayer  keep  your  hearts,  as 
it  were  wide  open  to  the  Sun,  and  His  light  will  shine  on 
you,  and  His  grace  fructify  through  you,  and  His  Spirit 
will  work  in  you  mightily. 

The  tenor  of  these  remarks  presupposes  a  point  on 
which  I  wish  to  make  one  or  two  observations  now,  viz. 
that  the  manner  of  the  divine  working  which  we  should 
most  earnestly  desire  in  a  time  of  dififused  unbelief  is  the 
elevation  of  Christian  souls  to  a  higher  spiritual  life. 

I  do  not  wish  to  exclude  other  things,  but  I  believe 
that  the  true  antidote  to  a  widespread  scepticism  is  a 
quickened  Church,  We  may  indeed  desire  that  in  other 
ways  the  enemy  should  be  met  We  ought  to  pray  that 
God  would  work  by  sending  forth  defenders  of  the  truth, 
by  estabhshing  His  Church  in  the  firm  faith  of  disputed 


94  *  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORKr         [sirm. 

verities,  and  by  all  the  multitude  of  ways  in  which  He 
can  sway  the  thoughts  and  tendencies  of  men.  But  I 
honestly  confess  that  I,  for  my  part,  attach  but  second- 
ary importance  to  controversial  defences  of  the  faith. 
No  doubt  they  have  their  office :  they  may  confirm  a 
waverer ;  they  may  establish  a  believer ;  they  may  show 
onlookers  that  the  Christian  position  is  tenable  \  they 
may,  in  some  rare  cases  of  transcendent  power,  prevent 
a  heresy  firom  spreading  and  from  descending  to  another 
generation.  But  oftenest  they  are  barren  of  result ;  and 
where  they  do  their  work,  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  there 
may  remain  as  true  a  making  void  of  God's  law  by  an 
evil  heart  of  unbeUef  as  by  an  understanding  cased  in  the 
mail  of  denial  You  may  hammer  ice  on  an  anvil,  or 
bray  it  in  a  mortar.  What  then  ?  It  is  pounded  ice  still, 
except  for  the  little  portion  melted  by  heat  of  percussion, 
and  it  will  soon  all  congeal  again.  Melt  it  in  the  sun, 
and  it  flows  down  in  sweet  water,  which  mirrors  that  light 
which  loosed  its  bonds  of  cold.  So  hammer  away  at 
unbelief  with  your  logical  sledge-hammers,  and  you  will 
change  its  shape,  perhaps  ;  but  it  is  none  the  less  unbelief 
because  you  have  ground  it  to  powder.  It  is  a  mightier 
agent  that  must  melt  it, — the  fire  of  God's  love,  brought 
close  by  a  will  itself  ablaze  with  the  sacred  glow. 

Therefore,  while  giving  all  due  honour  to  other  forms 
of  Christian  opposition  to  the  prevailing  unbehef,  I  urge 
the  cultivation  of  a  quickened  spiritual  life  as  by  far  the 
most  potent  Does  not  history  bear  me  out  in  that  view  ? 
What,  for  instance,  was  it  that  finished  the  infidelity  of 
last  century  ?  Whether  had  Butler's  "  Analogy  "  or  Charles 


nr.]  *^TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK^  95 

Wesley's  hymns,  PaJc/s  "  Evidences "  or  Whitefield's 
sermons,  most  to  do  with  it  ?  A  languid  Church  breeds 
unbelief  as  surely  as  a  decaying  oak  fungus.  In  a  condi- 
tion of  depressed  vitality,  the  seeds  of  disease,  which  a 
full  vigour  would  shake  off,  are  fatal  Raise  the  temper- 
ature, and  you  kill  the  insect  germs.  A  warmer  tone  of 
spiritual  life  would  change  the  atmosphere  which  unbelief 
needs  for  its  growth.  It  belongs  to  the  fauna  of  the 
glacial  epoch,  and  when  the  rigours  of  that  wintry  time 
begin  to  melt,  and  warmer  days  to  set  in,  the  creatures  of 
the  ice  have  to  retreat  to  arctic  wildernesses,  and  leave  a 
land  no  longer  suited  for  their  hfe.  A  diffused  unbelief, 
such  as  we  see  around  us  to-<iay,  docs  not  really  arise 
from  the  logical  basis  on  which  it  seems  to  repose.  It 
comes  from  something  much  deeper, — a  certain  habit 
and  set  of  mind  which  gives  these  arguments  their  force. 
For  want  of  a  better  name,  we  call  it  the  spirit  of  the  age. 
It  is  the  result  of  very  subtle  and  complicated  forces, 
which  I  do  not  pretend  to  analyze.  It  spreads  through 
society,  and  forms  the  congenial  soil  in  which  these  seeds 
of  evil,  as  we  believe  them  to  be,  take  root  Does  any- 
body suppose  that  the  growth  of  popular  unbelief  is  owing 
to  the  logical  force  of  certain  arguments  ?  It  is  in  the 
air ;  a  wave  of  it  is  passing  over  us.  We  are  in  a  condi- 
tion in  which  it  becomes  epidemic.  That  is  a  doctrine 
which  one  influential  school  of  modem  disbehevers,  at 
all  events,  cannot  but  admit  What  then  ?  Why,  this 
—that  to  change  the  opinions  you  must  change  the  at- 
mosphere ;  or,  in  other  words,  the  true  antagonist  of 
ft   diffused   scepticism   is   a   quickened    Christian    life 


96  « TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORKP      [serm. 

Brethren,  if  we  had  been  what  we  ought,  would  such  an 
environment  have  ever  been  possible  as  that  which  pro- 
duces this  modern  unbelief?     Even  now,  depend  upon 
it,  we  shall  do  more  for  Christ  by  catching  and  exhibiting 
more  of  His  spirit  than  by  many  arguments — more  by 
words  of  prayer  to  God  than  by  words  of  reasoning  to 
men.     A  higher  tone  of  spiritual  hfe  would  prove  that 
the  gospel  was  mighty  to  mould  and  ennoble  character. 
If  our  own  souls  were  gleaming  with  the  glory  of  God, 
men  would  believe    that  we  had   met  more  than    the 
shadow  of  our  own  personality  in  the  secret  place.     If 
the  fire  of  faith  were  bright  in  us,  it  would  communicate 
itself  to  others,  for  nothing  is  so  contagious  as  earnest- 
ness.    If  we  believed,  and  therefore  spoke,  the  accent 
of  conviction  in  our  tones  would  carry  them  deep  into 
some  hearts.     If  we  would  trust  Christ's  cross  to  stand 
firm  without  our  stays,  and,  arguing  less  about  it,  would 
seldomer  iiy  to  prop  it,  and  oftener  to  point  to  it,  it  would 
draw  men  to  it.     When  the  power  and  reaUty  of  Scripture 
as  the  revelation  of  God  are  questioned,  the  best  answer 
in  the  long-run  will  be  a  Church  which  can  adduce  itseli 
as  the   witness,  and  can  say  to  the  gainsayers  ;  "  Why, 
herein  is  a    marvellous    thing,  that  ye  know  not   from 
whence   He  is,  and  yet  He  hath  opened  mine  eyes." 
Bretliren,  do  you  see  to  it  that  your  life  be  thus  a  witness 
that  you  have  heard  His  voice  j  and  make  it  your  con- 
tribution to  the  warfare  of  this  day,  that  if  you  do  not 
bear  a  weapon,  you  lift  your  hands  and  heart  to  God. 
Moses  on  the  mount  helped  the  struggling  ranks  belo^ 
in  their  hacd-to-hand  combat  with  Amalek.     Hezekiah'y 


nr.]  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WOREJ*  97 

prayer,  when  he  spread  the  letter  of  the  invader  before 
the  Lord,  was  more  to  the  purpose  than  all  his  munitions 
of  war.  Let  your  voice  rise  to  heaven  like  a  fountain. 
Blessings  will  fall  on  earth.  "Arise,  O  Lord,  plead 
Thine  own  cause.  The  tumult  of  those  that  rise  up 
against  Thee  increaseth  continually." 

in.  We  have  here,  thirdly,  as  the  fitting  attitude  in 
times  of  widespread  unbelief,  a  love  to  God's  word  made 
more  fervid  by  antagonism. 

There  may  be  a  question  what  reason  for  the  Psalmist's 
love  is  pointed  at  in  this  "  therefore."  We  shall  hardly 
be  satisfied  with  the  slovenly  and  not  very  reverent  ex- 
planation, that  the  word  is  introduced,  without  any  par- 
ticular meaning,  because  it  begins  with  the  initial  letter 
proper  to  this  section;  nor  does  it  seem  enough  to 
suppose  a  mere  general  reference  to  the  excellences  of 
the  law  of  the  Lord,  which  are  the  theme  of  the  whole 
psalm.  Such  an  interpretation  blunts  the  sharp  edge  of 
the  thought,  and  has  nothing  in  its  favour  but  the  general 
want  of  connection  between  the  separate  verses.  There 
are,  however,  one  or  two  other  instances  where  a  thought 
is  pursued  through  more  than  one  verse,  and  the  usual 
mere  juxtaposition  gives  place  to  an  interlocking,  so  that 
the  construction  is  not  unexampled.  It  is  most  natural 
to  take  the  plain  meaning  of  the  words,  and  to  suppose 
that  when  the  Psalmist  said,  "  They  have  made  void  Thy 
law,  therefore  I  love  Thy  commandments,"  he  meant, 
•*  The  prevailing  opposition  is  the  reason  why  I,  for  mv 
part,  grasp  Thy  law  more  strongly."    The  hostility  of 


98  *  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK?*       [serm 

others  evokes  my  warmer  love.  The  thought,  so  under- 
stood, is  definite,  true,  and  important,  and  so  I  venture 
to  construe  it,  and  enforce  it  as  containing  a  lesson  for 
the  day. 

And  here  I  would  first  observe,  that  I  desire  not  to  be 
understood  as  urging  the  substitution  of  feeling  for  reason, 
nor  as  trying  to  enlist  passion  in  a  crusade  against  the 
opponent's  logic.  Still  less  do  I  desire  to  counsel  the 
exaggeration  of  opinions  because  they  are  denied — that 
besetting  danger  of  all  controversy. 

But,  surely,  the  emotions  have  a  place  and  an  office,  it 
not  indeed  in  the  search  for,  and  the  submission  to,  the 
truth  of  God,  yet  in  the  defence  and  adherence  to  that 
truth  when  found.  The  heart  may  not  be  the  organ  for 
the  investigation  and  apprehension  of  truth,  though  it  has 
a  part  to  play  even  there  ;  but  the  tenacity  with  which  I 
cleave  to  it,  when  apprehended,  is  far  more  an  aftair  of  the 
will  than  of  the  understanding—it  is  the  heart's  love 
steadying  the  mind,  and  holding  it  fixed  to  the  rock.  And 
love  has  a  place  in  the  defence  of  the  truth.  It  gives 
weight  to  blows,  and  wings  to  the  arrows.  It  makes 
arguments  to  be  wrought  in  fire  rather  than  in  frost.  It 
lights  the  enthusiasm  which  cannot  despair,  the  diligence 
that  will  not  weary,  the  fervour  that  often  goes  faither  to 
sway  other  minds  than  the  sharpest  dialectics  of  a  pas- 
sionless understanding.  There  are  causes  in  which  an 
unimpassioned  advocacy  is  worse  than  silence ;  and  this 
is  one  of  them.  The  word  of  the  living  God,  which  has 
saved  our  souls  and  brought  to  us  all  that  makes  our 
natures  rich  and  strcr.g,  and  all  that  peoples  the  great 


IV.]  "  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK,""  99 

darkness  with  fair  hopes  solid  as  certainties,  demands  and 
deserves  fervour  in  its  soldiers,  and  loyal  love  in  its 
subjects. 

And  while  it  is  weakness  to  over-emphasise  our  beliefs 
merdy  because  they  are  denied,  and  one  of  the  saddest 
issues  of  controversy,  that  both  sides  are  apt  to  be  hurried 
into  exaggerated  statements  which  calmer  thoughts  would 
repudiate ;  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  legitimate  pro- 
minence which  ought  to  be  given  to  a  truth  precisely 
because  it  is  denied.  The  time  to  underline  and  accen- 
tuate strongly  our  convictions  is,  when  society  is  slipping 
away  from  them,  provided  it  be  done  without  petulance, 
passion,  or  the  falsehood  of  extremes. 

If  ever  there  was  a  period  when  such  general  consider- 
ations as  these  had  a  practical  application,  this  is  the  time. 
Would  that  all  such  as  my  voice  reaches  now  would  take 
these  grand  words  for  theirs :  "  They  make  void  Thy  law, 
therefore  I  love  Thy  commandments  above  gold;  yea, 
above  fine  gold  I  ** 

Such  increase  of  affection  because  of  gainsayers  is  the 
natural  instinct  of  loyal  and  chivalrous  love.  If  your 
nj other's  name  were  detiled,  would  not  your  heart  bound 
to  her  defence  ?  When  a  prince  is  a  dethroned  exile,  his 
throne  is  fixed  deeper  in  the  hearts  of  his  adherents 
"  though  his  back  be  at  the  wall "  and  common  souls 
become  heroes  because  their  devotion  has  been  height- 
ened to  sublimity  of  seif-sacrifice  by  a  nation's  rebeUion. 
And  when  so  many  voices  are  proclaiming  that  God  has 
never  spoken  to  men,  that  our  thoughts  of  His  Book  are 
dreams,  and  its  long  empire  over  men's  spirits  a  waning 

H  S 


lOO  •«  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK."*       [serm. 

tyranny,  does  cool  indifference  become  us?  Will  not 
fervour  be  sobriety,  and  the  glowing  emotion  of  our  whole 
nature  our  reasonable  service  ? 

Such  increase  of  affection  because  of  gainsayers  is  the 
fitting  end  and  main  blessing  of  the  controversy  which 
is  being  waged.      We   never  fully  hold  our  treasures  till 
we  have  grasped  them  hard,  lest  they  should  be  plucked 
from  us.     No  truth  is  established  till  it  has  been  denied 
and  has   survived.     Antagonism   to   the  word   of  God 
should  have,  and  will  have,  to  those  who  use  it  rightly,  a 
blessing  in  its  train,  in  bringing  out  yet  more  of  the  pre- 
ciousness  and  manyfoldness,  the  all-sufficiency  and  the 
universality  of  the  Book.    "  The  more  'tis  shook,  the  more 
it  shines."  The  fiercer  the  blast,  the  firmer  our  confidence 
in  the  inexpugnable  soUdity  of  that  tower  of  strength 
that  stands  four  square  to  every  wind  that  blows.    "  The 
word  of  the  Lord  is  tried,  therefore  Thy  servant  loveth  it." 
Such  increase  of  attachment  to  the  word   of  God 
because  of  gainsayers,  is  the  instinct  of  self-preservation. 
The  sight  of  so  many  making  void  the  law  makes  a  man 
bethink  himself  of  what  his  own  standing  is.    We,  as  they, 
are  the  children  of  the  age.    The  tendencies  to  which  they 
have  yielded  operate  on  us,  too,  and  our  only  strength  is, 
"  Hold  Thou  me  up,  and  I  shall  be  safe."    The  present 
condition  of  opinion  remands  us  all  to  our  foundations, 
and  should  teach  us  that  nothing  but  firm  adherence  to 
God  revealed  in  His  word,  and  to  the  word  which  reveals 
God,  will  prevent  us,  too,  from  drifting  away  to  shoreless, 
solitary  seas  of  doubt,  barren  as  the  foam,  and  changeful 
u  the  crumbling,  restless  wave. 


IV.]  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK:"  loi 

Such  strength  of  affection  in  the  presence  of  diffused 
doubt  is  not  to  be  won  without  an  effort  All  our 
Churches  afford  us  but  too  many  examples  of  men  and 
women  who  have  lost  the  warmth  of  their  first  love,  if  not 
their  love  itself,  for  no  better  reason  than  because  so 
many  others  have  lost  it.  The  effect  of  popular  unbelief 
stretches  far  beyond  those  who  are  directly  affected  by  its 
arguments,  or  avowedly  adopt  its  conclusions.  It  is  hard 
to  hold  by  a  creed  which  so  many  influential  voices  tell 
you  it  is  a  sign  of  folly,  and  being  behind  the  age  to 
believe.  The  consciousness  that  Christian  truth  is 
denied,  makes  some  of  you  falter  in  its  profession,  and 
fancy  that  it  is  less  certain  simply  because  it  is  gainsaid 
The  mist  wraps  you  in  its  folds,  and  it  is  difficult  to  keep 
warm  in  it,  or  to  believe  that  love  and  sunshine  are  above 
it  all  the  same.  "  Because  iniquity  shall  abound,  the  love 
of  many  shall  wax  cold." 

Therefore,  brethren,  do  you  consciously  endeavour  that 
the  tempest  shall  make  you  tighten  your  hold  on  Christ 
and  His  word.  He  appeals  to  us,  too,  with  that  most 
pathetic  question,  in  which  yearning  for  our  love  and 
sorrow  over  the  departed  disciples  blend  so  wondrously, 
as  if  He  cast  Himself  on  our  loyalty :  "  Will  ye  also  go 
away?"  Let  us  answer,  not  with  the  self-confidence 
that  was  so  signally  put  to  shame  :  "  Though  all  should 
forsake  Thee,  yet  will  not  I  ** ;  but  with  the  resolve  that 
draws  its  firmness  from  His  fulness  and  from  our  know- 
ledge of  the  power  of  His  truth  :  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall 
we  go  ?    Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  hfe," 


loa  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK!"      [serm, 

rV.  And,  lastly,  we  have  here,  as  the  final  trait  in  the 
temper  which  becomes  such  times,  healthy  opposition  to 
the  ways  which  make  void  the  word  of  the  Lord. 

That  is  the  Psalmist's  last  movement  of  feeling,  and 
you  see  that  it  comes  second,  not  first,  in  the  order  of  his 
emotions.  It  is  the  consequence  of  his  love,  the  recoil  of 
his  heart  from  the  practices  and  theories  which  contra- 
dicted God's  law. 

Now,  far  be  it  from  me  to  say  a  word  which  should  fan 
the  embers  of  the  odium  theologicum  into  a  blaze  against 
either  men  or  opinions.  But  there  is  a  truth  involved 
which  seems  to  be  in  danger  of  being  forgotten  at  present, 
and  that  to  the  detriment  of  large  interests  as  well  as  ol 
the  forgetters.  The  correlative  of  a  hearty  love  for  any 
principle  or  belief  is — we  may  as  well  use  the  obnoxious 
word — a  healthy  hatred  for  its  denial  and  contradiction. 
They  are  but  two  aspects  of  one  thing,  like  that  pillar  of 
old  which,  in  its  single  substance,  was  a  cloud  and  dark- 
ness to  the  foes,  and  gave  light  by  night  to  the  friends, 
of  Him  who  dwelt  in  it  Nay,  they  are  but  two  names 
for  the  very  same  thing  viewed  in  the  very  same  motion, 
which  is  love  as  it  yearns  towards  and  cleaves  to  its 
treasure;  and  hatred,  as  by  the  identical  same  act  it 
recoils  and  withdraws  fi"om .  the  opposite  :  "  He  will 
hold  to  the  one,  and  therefore  and  therein  despise  the 
other.** 

Much  popular  teaching  as  to  Christian  truth  seems  to 
me  to  ignore  this  plain  principle,  and  to  be  working  harm, 
especially  among  our  younger  cultivated  men  and  women, 
whom  it  charms  by  an  appearance  of  liberality,  which,  in 


IV.]  "  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK,""  103 

their  view,  contrasts  very  favourably  with  the  narrowness 
of  us  sectarians.  I  am  free  to  admit  that  in  our  zeal 
about  small  matters  (and  in  a  certain  "  provincialism,"  so 
to  speak,  which  characterised  the  type  of  English  Christi- 
anity till  within  a  recent  period)  we  needed,  and  still 
need,  the  lesson,  and  I  will  thankfully  accept  the  rebuke 
that  reminds  me  of  what  I  ever  tend  to  forget,  that  the 
golden  rod,  wherewith  the  divine  Builder  measures  from 
jewel  to  jewel  in  the  walls  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  takes 
in  wider  spaces  than  we  have  meted  with  our  lines.  But 
that  is  a  very  different  matter  from  the  tone  which 
vitiates  and  weakens  so  much  modem  adherence  to 
Christ's  Gospel  and  Christ's  Church.  The  old  principle, 
"in  essential  unity,  in  non-essential  liberty,"  made  no 
attempt  to  determine  what  belonged  to  these  two  classes, 
and  in  practice  their  bounds  may  often  have  been 
\iTongly  set,  so  as  to  include  many  of  the  latter  among 
the  former ;  but  it  at  all  events  recognised  the  distinction 
as  the  basis  of  its  next  clause,  **  in  all  things  charity." 
But  now-a-days,  to  listen  to  some  liberal  teachers,  one 
would  think  that  nothing  was  necessary,  except  the  great 
sacred  principle,  that  nothing  is  necessary;  and  that 
charit>  could  not  exist,  unless  that  distinction  were 
eflfaceA 

I  pray  you,  and  if  I  may  venture  so  far,  I  would 
especially  pray  my  younger  hearers,  to  take  note,  that 
however  fair  this  way  of  looking  at  varying  forms  of 
Christian  opinion  may  be,  it  really  reposes  on  a  basis 
which  they  will  surely  think  twice  before  accepting,  the 
denial  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  intellectual  certitude 


I04  "  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK^        [SERM. 

in  religion  which  can  be  cast  into  definite  propositions. 
If  there  be  any  truth  at  all,  to  confess  it  is  to  deny  its 
opposite,  to  cleave  to  this  is  to  reject  that,  to  love  the 
one  is  to  hate  the  other.  I  fear,  I  know,  that  there  arc 
many  minds  among  us  who  began  with  simply  catching 
this  tone  of  tolerance,  and  who  have  been  insensibly 
borne  along  to  an  enfeebled  belief  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  religious  truth  at  all,  and  that  that  truth  lies  in 
the  word  of  God:  Dear  friends,  let  me  beseech  you  to 
take  heed  lest,  while  you  are  only  conscious  of  your 
hearts  expanding  with  the  genial  glow  of  liberality,  by 
Uttle  and  little  you  lose  your  power  of  discerning  between 
things  that  differ,  your  sense  of  the  worth  of  the  Scrip- 
ture as  the  depository  of  divine  truth,  and  fi-om  your 
slack  hand  the  hem  of  the  vesture  in  which  is  healing 
should  fall  away. 

As  broad  a  liberality  as  you  please  within  the  limits 
that  are  laid  down  by  the  very  nature  of  the  case. 
"These  things  are  written  that  ye  might  believe  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  and  that  believing  ye 
might  have  life  through  His  name."  Wheresoever  that 
record  is  accepted,  that  divine  name  confessed,  that  faith 
exercised,  and  that  life  possessed,  there,  with  all  diver- 
sities, own  a  brother.  Wheresoever  these  things  arc  not, 
loyalty  to  your  Lord  demands  that  the  strength  of  your 
love  for  His  word  should  be  manifested  in  the  strength  of 
your  recoil  from  that  which  makes  it  void.  "  I  love  Thy 
commandments,  and  I  hate  every  false  way." 

I  am  much  mistaken  if  times  are  not  rapidly  coming 
on  us  when  a  decisive  election  of  Ilis  side  will  be  forced 


IV.]  «  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK*  105 

on  every  man.  The  old  antagonists  will  be  face  to  face 
once  more.  Compromises  and  hesitations  will  not  serve. 
The  country  between  the  opposing  forces  will  be  stript  of 
every  spot  that  might  serve  as  cover  for  neutrals.  On  the 
one  side  a  mighty  host,  its  right  the  Pharisees  of 
ecclesiasticism  and  ritual,  with  their  banner  of  authority, 
making  void  the  law  of  God  by  their  tradition ;  its  left, 
and  never  far  away  from  their  opposites  on  the  right, 
with  whom  they  are  strangely  leagued,  working  into  each 
other's  hands,  the  Sadducees  denying  angel  and  spirit, 
with  their  war-cry  of  unfettered  freedom  and  scientific 
evidence ;  and  in  the  centre,  far  rolling,  innumerable,  the 
dusky  hosts  of  mere  animalism,  and  worldliness,  and  self, 
making  void  the  law  by  their  sheer  godlessness.  And  on 
the  other  side,  **  H«  was  clothed  with  a  vesture  dipped  in 
blood,  and  His  name  is  called  The  Word  of  God,  and 
they  that  were  with  Him  were  called,  and  chosen,  and 
faithful."  The  issue  is  certain  from  of  old.  Do  you  see 
to  it  that  you  are  of  those  who  were  valiant  for  the  truth 
upon  the  earth. 

Let  not  the  contradiction  of  many  move  you  from  your 
faith ;  let  it  lift  your  eyes  to  the  hills  from  whence  cometh 
our  help.  Let  it  open  your  desires  in  prayer  to  Him  who 
keeps  His  own  word,  that  it  may  keep  His  Church  and 
bless  the  world.  Let  it  kindle  into  fervent  enthusiasm, 
which  is  calm  sobriety,  your  love  for  that  word.  Let  it 
make  decisive  your  rejection  of  all  that  opposes.  Drift- 
wood may  swim  with  the  stream ;  the  ship  that  holds  to 
her  anchor  swings  the  other  way.  Send  that  word  far 
and  wide.     It  is  its  own  best  evidence.     It  will  correct 


io6  **  TIME  FOR  THEE  TO  WORK^  [serm.  nr. 

all  the  misrepresentation  of  its  foes,  and  supplement  the 
inadequate  defences  of  its  friends.  Amid  all  the  changes 
of  attacks  that  have  their  day  and  cease  to  be,  amid  all 
the  changes  of  our  representations  of  its  endless  fulness,  it 
will  live.  Schools  of  thought  that  assail  and  defend  it  pass, 
but  it  abides.  Of  both  enemy  and  friend  it  is  true,  "  The 
grass  withereth,  and  the  flower  thereof  passeth  away." 
How  antique  and  ineffectual  the  pages  of  the  pasf^ene- 
rations  of  either  are,  compared  wdth  the  ever-fresh  youth 
of  the  Bible,  which,  like  the  angels,  is  the  youngest  and 
is  the  oldest  of  books.  The  world  can  never  lose  it ; 
and  notwithstanding  all  assaults,  we  may  rest  upon  His 
assurance,  whose  command  is  prophecy,  when  He  says, 
"  Write  it  before  them  in  a  table,  and  note  it  in  a  book, 
that  it  may  be/^r  the  titne  to  come  for  ever  and  erter,^ 


SERMON  V. 

THE  EXHORTATION  OF  BARNABAS.* 

Acts  xi.  23. 

Wko,  when  he  came,  and  had  seen  the  grace  of  Grod,  was  glad,  tad 
exhorted  them  all,  that  with  purpose  of  heart  they  would  deare 
unto  the  Lord. 

OEFORE  coming  to  the  mere  immediate  consideration 
of  these  words,  I  may  be  allowed  a  brief  reference 
to  the  innovation  on  the  customary  arrangements  of  your 
meetings,  which  gives  me  the  honour  of  addressing  you 
here.  This  is,  I  believe,  the  first  occasion  on  which  a 
member  of  another  communion  has  preached  before  the 
Congregational  Union.  And  though  I  unleignedly  wish 
that  the  task  had  fallen  to  some  more  worthy  representa- 
tive of  other  Churches,  I  rejoice  that  you  have  set  us  all 
the  example  of  thus  recognising,  in  your  most  denomina- 
tional gatherings,  your  nearest  ecclesiastical  kindred.  In 
our  several  localities  and  labour  side  by  side,  and  on  the 
whole,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  why  should  we  ignore  one 
another  in  our  respective    theories,     conferences,  and 

*  Preached  before  the  Congregational  Union  of  England  and 
Wales. 


io8      THE  EXHOR  TA  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [SERM 

general  assemblies,  even  if  for  the  present  we  may  not 
add  "  convocations,"  to  the  list  ?  May  your  example  be 
imitated  !  It  does  not  become  me  to  speak  here  of  my 
own  sense  of  the  honour  which  you  have  done  me,  or  of 
the  extreme  gratification  with  which  I  accept  the  re- 
sponsible duty  of  addressing  an  audience,  including  many 
from  whom  I  would  more  gladly  learn — a  gratification 
shaded  only  by  the  feeling  of  my  inability  to  speak  words 
level  with  the  occasion.  And,  now,  let  me  turn  to  my  text 
The  first  purely  heathen  converts  had  been  brought  into 
the  Church  by  the  nameless  men  of  Cyprus  and  Cyrene, 
private  persons  with  no  office  or  commission  to  preach, 
who,  in  simple  obedience  to  the  instincts  of  a  Christian 
heart,  leaped  the  barrier  which  seemed  impassable  to  the 
Church  in  Jerusalem,  and  solved  the  problem  over  which 
apostles  were  hesitating.  Barnabas  is  sent  down  to  see 
into  this  surprising  new  phenomenon,  and  his  mission, 
though,  probably,  not  hostile,  was,  at  all  events,  one  of 
inquiry  and  doubt  But  like  a  true  man,  he  yielded  to 
facts,  and  widened  bis  theory  to  suit  them.  He  saw  the 
token  of  Christian  life  in  these  Gentile  converts,  and 
that  compelled  him  to  admit  that  the  Church  was  wider 
than  some  of  his  friends  in  Jerusalem  thought  A  preg- 
nant lesson  for  modem  theorists  who,  on  one  ground  or 
another  of  doctrine  or  of  orders,  narrow  the  great  con- 
ception of  Christ's  Church  I  Can  you  see  **  the  grace  of 
God  in  the  people"?  Then  they  are  in  the  Church,  what 
ever  becomes  of  your  theories,  and  the  sooner  you  let  them 
out  so  as  to  fit  the  facts,  the  better  for  you  and  for  them. 
Satisfied  as  to  theif  true  Christian  character,  he  sets 


T.J        THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS.      loy 

himself  to  help  them  to  grow.  Now,  remember  how 
recently  they  had  been  converted ;  how,  from  their  Gentile 
origin,  they  can  have  had  next  to  no  systematic  instruction, 
how  the  taint  of  heathen  morals,  such  as  were  common  in 
that  luxurious  corrupt  Antioch,  must  have  clung  to  them ; 
how  unformed  must  have  been  their  loose  Church  organi- 
sation— and  remembering  all  this,  think  of  this  one 
exhortation  as  summing  up  all  that  Barnabas  had  to 
say  to  them.  He  does  not  say,  Do  this,  or  Believe  that, 
or  Organise  the  other  j  but  he  says.  Stick  to  Jesus  Christ 
the  Lord.  On  this  commandment  hangs  all  the  law ;  it 
is  the  one  all-inclusive  summary  of  the  duties  of  the 
Christian  life. 

So,  brethren  and  fathers,  I  venture  to  take  these  words 
now,  as  containing  large  lessons  for  us  all,  appropriate  at 
all  times,  and  especially  in  a  sermon  on  such  an  occasion 
as  the  present. 

We  may  deal  with  the  thoughts  suggested  by  these 
words  very  simply,  just  looking  at  the  points  as  they  lie 
—what  he  saw,  what  he/;//,  what  he  said. 

L    What  He  saw. 

The  grace  of  God  here  has  very  probably  the  specific 
meaning  of  the  miracle-working  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
That  is  rendered  probable  by  the  analogy  of  other  in- 
stances recorded  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  such  as 
Peter's  experience  at  Caesarea,  where  all  his  .hesitations 
and  reluctance  were  swept  away  when  "  the  Holy  Ghost 
fell  on  them  as  on  us  at  the  beginning,  and  they  spake 
with  tongues."     So,  what  convinced  Barnabas  that  these 


no     THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [serm. 

uncircumcised  Gentiles  were  Christians  like  himself,  may 
have  been  their  equal  possession  of  the  visible  and  audible 
effects  of  that  gift  of  God.  But  the  language  does  not 
compel  this  interpretation;  and  the  absence  of  all  dis- 
tinct reference  to  these  extraordinary  powers  as  existing, 
there,  among  the  new  converts  at  Antioch  may  be  intended 
to  mark  a  difference  m  the  nature  of  the  evidence.  At 
any  rate,  the  possibly  intentional  generality  of  the  expres- 
sion is  significant  and  fairly  points  to  an  extension  of  the 
principle  involved  much  beyond  the  limits  of  miraculous 
powers.  There  are  other  ways  by  which  the  grace  oi 
God  may  be  seen  and  heard,  thank  God  !  than  by  speak- 
ing with  tongues  and  working  miracles;  and  the  first 
lesson  of  our  text  is  that  wherever  that  grace  is  made 
visible  by  its  appropriate  manifestations  there  we  are  to 
recognise  a  brother. 

Augustine  said,  "  where  Christ  is  there  is  the  Church,** 
and  that  is  true,  but  vague ;  for  the  question  still  remains, 
"  and  where  is  Christ  ?  "  The  only  satisfying  answer  is, 
Christ  is  wherever  Christlike  men  manifest  a  life  drawn 
from,  and  kindred  with,  His  life.  And  so  the  true  form  of 
the  dictum  for  practical  purposes  comes  to  be  :  Where 
the  grace  of  Christ  is  visible,  there  is  the  Church. 

That  great  truth  is  sinned  against  and  denied  in  many 
ways.  Most  chiefly,  perhaps,  by  the  successors  in  modem 
garb  of  the  more  Jewish  portion  of  that  Church  at 
Jerusalem  who  sent  Barnabas  to  Antioch.  They  had  no 
objection  to  Gentiles  entering  the  Church,  but  they  must 
come  in  by  the  way  of  circumcision ;  they  quite  believed 
that  it  wai  Christ  who  saved,   and  His  grace  which 


v.]        THE  EXHORTATION  OF  BARNABAS,      iii 


sanctified,  but  they  thought  that  His  grace  would  only 
flow  in  a  given  channel;  and  so  their  modem  repre- 
sentatives, who  exalt  sacraments,  and  consequently  priests, 
to  the  same  place  as  the  Judaizers  in  the  early  Church 
did  the  rite  of  the  old  Covenant  Such  teachers  have 
much  to  say  about  the  notes  of  the  Church,  and  have 
elaborated  a  complicated  system  of  identification  by 
which  you  may  know  the  genuine  article,  and  unmask 
impostors.  The  attempt  is  about  as  wise  as  to  try  to 
measure  a  network  fine  enough  to  keep  back  a  stream. 
The  water  will  flow  through  the  closest  meshes,  and  when 
Christ  pours  out  the  Spirit  He  is  apt  to  do  it  in  utter 
disregard  of  notes  of  the  Church,  and  of  channels  of 
sacramental  grace. 

We  Congregationalists,  who  have  no  orders,  no  sacra- 
ments, no  apostolic  succession ;  who  in  order  not  to  break 
loose  from  Christ  and  conscience  have  had  to  break 
loose  from  "  Catholic  tradition,"  and  have  been  driven  to 
separation  by  the  true  schismatics,  who  have  insisted  on 
smother  bond  of  Church  unity  than  union  to  Christ,  are 
denied  now-a-days  a  place  in  His  Church. 

The  true  answers  to  all  that  arrogant  assumption  and 
narrow  pedantry  which  confines  the  free  flow  of  the 
water  of  life  to  the  conduits  of  sacraments  and  orders, 
and  will  only  allow  the  wind  that  bloweth  where  it  listeth 
to  make  music  in  the  pipes  of  their  organs,  is  simply  the 
homely  one  which  shivered  a  corresponding  theory  to 
atoms  in  the  fair  open  mind  of  Barnabas. 

The  Spirit  of  Christ  at  work  in  men's  hearts,  making 
them  pure  and  gentle,  simple  and  unworldly,  refining 


112    THE  EXHORTA  TION  OF  BARNABAS.  [SERM. 

their  characters,  elevating  their  aims,  toning  their  whole 
being  into  accord  with  the  music  of  His  life,  is  the  true 
proof  that  men  are  Christians,  and  that  communities  of 
such  men  are  Churches  of  His.  Mysterious  efficacy  is 
claimed  for  Christian  ordinances.  Well,  the  question  is  a 
fair  one.  Is  the  type  of  Christian  character  produced 
within  these  sacred  limits  which  we  are  hopelessly  outside 
conspicuously  higher  and  more  manifestly  Christlike  than 
that  nourished  by  no  sacraments,  and  grown  not  under 
glass,  but  in  the  unsheltered  open  ?  Has  not  God  set  His 
seal  on  these  communities,  to  which  we  belong  ?  With 
many  faults  for  which  we  have  to  be,  and  are,  humble  be- 
fore Him,  we  can  point  to  the  lineaments  of  the  family 
likeness,  and  say  ''Are  they  Hebrews?  so  are  we.  Are 
they  Israelites  ?  so  are  we.  Are  they  the  seed  of  Abraham  ? 
so  are  we. " 

Once  get  that  truth  wrought  into  men's  minds  that  the 
true  test  of  Christianity  is  the  visible  presence  of  a  grace 
in  character  which  is  evidently  God's,  and  whole  moun- 
tains of  prejudice  and  error  melt  awa)f.  We  are  just  as 
much  in  danger  of  narrowing  the  Church  in  accordance 
with  our  narrowness  as  any  '•  sacramentarian  "  of  them  all. 
We  are  tempted  to  think  that  no  good  thing  can  grow  up 
under  the  baleful  shadow  of  that  tree,  a  sacerdotal  Christi- 
anity. We  are  tempted  to  think  that  all  the  good  people 
are  dissenters,  just  as  Churchmen  are  to  think  that  nobody 
can  be  a  Christian  who  prays  without  a  prayer-book. 
Our  own  type  of  denominational  character^and  there  is 
such  a  thing — comes  to  be  accepted  by  u?  as  the  all  but 
exclusive   ideal   of   a   devout    man;   and   we   have   not 


v.]        THE  EXHORTATION  OF  BARNABAS,      113 

imagination  enough  to  conceive,  nor  charity  enough  to 
believe  in,  the  goodness  which  does  not  speak  our  dialect, 
nor  see  with  our  eyes.  Dogmatical  narrowness  has 
built  as  high  walls  as  ceremonial  Christianity  round  th 
fold  of  Christ  And  the  one  deliverance  for  us  all  frca 
the  transformed  selfishness,  which  has  so  much  to  do 
with  shaping  all  these  wretched  narrow  theories  of  the 
Church,  is  to  do  as  this  man  did — open  our  eyes  with 
sympathetic  eagerness  to  see  God's  grace  in  many  an 
unexpected  place,  and  square  our  theories  with  His 
deahngs. 

It  used  to  be  an  axiom  that  there  was  no  life  in  the 
sea  beyond  a  certain  limit  of  a  few  hundred  feet.  It  was 
learnedly  and  conclusively  demonstrated  that  pressure 
and  absence  of  light,  and  I  know  not  what  beside,  made 
Hfe  at  greater  depths  impossible.  It  was  proved  that  in 
such  conditions  creatures  could  not  live.  And  then 
when  that  was  settled,  "  The  Challenger  "  put  down  her 
dredge  five  miles,  and  brought  up  healthy  and  good- 
sized  living  things,  with  eyes  in  their  heads,  from  that 
enormous  depth.  So,  then,  the  savant  had  to  ask,  how 
can  there  be  Hfe?  instead  of  asserting  there  cannot 
be ;  and,  no  doubt,  the  answer  will  be  forthcoming 
some  day. 

We  have  all  been  too  much  accustomed  to  draw  arbitrary 
limits  to  the  difi'usion  of  the  life  of  Christ  among  men. 
Let  us  rather  rejoice  when  we  see  forms  of  beauty,  which 
bear  the  mark  of  His  hand,  drawn  from  depths  that  we 
deemed  waste,  and  thankfully  confess  that  the  bounds  of 
our  expectation,  and  the  framework  of  our  institution!, 

1 


1 14     THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [serm 

do  not  confine  the  breadth  of  His  working,  nor  the 
sweep  of  His  grace. 

*i.   What  he  felt— he ''was  glad!* 
It  was  a  triumph  of  Christian  principle  to  recognise  the 
grace  of  God  under  new   forms,  and  in  so   strange   a 
place.     It  was  a  still  greater  triumph  to  hail  it  with  re- 
joicing.    One  need  not  have  wondered  if  the  acknow- 
ledgement of  a  fact,  dead  in  the  teeth  of  all  his  prejudices, 
and  seemingly  destructive  of  some  profound  convictions, 
had  been  somewhat  grudging.     Even  a  good,  true  man 
might  have  been  bewildered  and  reluctant  to  let  go  so 
much  as  was  involved  in  the  admission — ''  Then  hath  God 
granted  to  the  Gentiles  also  repentance  unto  life/* — and 
might  have  been  pardoned  if  he  had  not  been  able  to  do 
more  than  acquiesce  and  hold  his  peace.   We  are  scarcely 
just  to  these  early  Jewish  Christians  when  we  wonder  at 
their  hesitation  on  this  matter,  and  are  apt  to  forget  the 
enormous  strength  of  the   prejudices  and  sacred  con- 
viction which  they  had  to  overcome.   Hence  the  context 
seems  to  consider  that  the  quick  recognition  of  their 
Christian  character  on  the  part  of  Barnabas,  and  his  glad- 
ness at  the  discovery,  need  explanation,  and  so  it  adds, 
with  special  reference  to  these,  as  it  would  seem,  "  for  he 
was  a  good  man  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of  faith,*'  as  il 
nothing  short  of  such  characteristics  could  have  sufficiently 
emancipated  him  from  the  narrowness  that  would  have 
refused  to  discern  the  good,  or  the  bitterness  that  would 
have  been  offended  at  it 

So,  dear  brethren,  we  may  well  test  ourselves  with  thu 


y.]        THE  EXHOR  TA  TJON  OF  BARN  A  BAS.      115 


question  :  Does  the  discovery  of  the  working  of  the  grace 
of  God  outside  the  limits  of  our  own  Churches  and  com- 
munions excite  a  quick  spontaneous  emotion  of  gladness 
in  our  hearts  ?  It  may  upset  some  of  our  tiieories ;  it 
may  teach  us  that  things  which  we  thought  very  impor- 
tant, distinctive  principles  and  the  like,  are  not  altogether 
as  precious  as  we  thought  them ;  it  may  require  us  to  give 
up  some  pleasant  ideas  of  our  superiority,  and  of  the 
necessary  conformity  of  all  good  people  to  our  type.  Are 
we  willing  to  let  them  all  go,  and  without  a  twinge  of 
envy  or  a  hanging  back  from  prejudice,  to  welcome  the 
discovery  that  God  fulfils  Himself  in  many  ways  ?  Have 
we  schooled  ourselves  to  say  honestly,  "  Therein  I  do 
rejoice,  yea,  and  will  rejoice  "  ? 

There  is  much  to  overcome  if  we  would  know  this 
Christlike  gladness.  The  good  and  the  bad  in  us  may 
both  oppose  it.  The  natural  deeper  interest  in  the  well- 
being  of  the  Churches  of  our  own  faith  and  order,  the 
legitimate  ties  which  unite  us  with  these,  our  conscientious 
convictions,  our  friendships,  the  aprit  de  corps  bom  of 
fighting  shoulder  to  shoulder,  will,  of  course,  make  our 
sympathies  flow  most  quickly  and  deeply  in  denomina- 
tional channels.  And  then  come  in  abundance  of 
less  worthy  motives,  some  altogether  bad  and  some 
the  exaggeration  of  what  is  good,  and  we  get  swallowed 
up  in  our  own  individual  work,  or  in  that  of  our  "  denomi- 
nation,** and  have  but  a  very  tepid  joy  in  anybody  else's 
prosperity. 

In  almost  every  town  of  England,  your  Churches,  and 
those  to  which  I  belong,  with  Presbyterians  and  Wesleyani, 

I  fl 


1 16     THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [serm. 

stand  iide  by  side.  The  conditions  of  our  work  make 
some  rivalry  inevitable,  and  none  of  us,  I  suppose,  object 
to  that  It  helps  to  keep  us  all  diligent :  a  sturdy  adherence 
to  our  several  "  distinctive  principles,"  and  an  occasional 
hard  blow  in  fair  fight  on  their  behalf  we  shall  all  insist 
upon.  Our  brotherhood  is  all  the  more  real  for  frank 
speech,  and  "  the  animated  no  "  is  an  essential  in  all  inter- 
course which  is  not  stagnant  or  mawkish.  There  is  much 
true  fellowship  and  much  good  feeling  among  all  these. 
But  we  want  far  more  of  an  honest  rejoicing  in  each 
other's  success,  a  quicker  and  truer  manly  sympathy  with 
each  other's  work,  a  fuller  consciousness  of  our  solidarity 
in  Christ,  and  a  clearer  exhibition  of  it  before  the 
world. 

And  on  a  wider  view,  as  our  eyes  travel  over  the  wide 
field  of  Christendom,  and  our  memories  go  back  over 
the  long  ages  of  the  story  of  the  Church,  let  gladness, 
and  not  wonder  or  reluctance,  be  the  temper  with  which 
we  see  the  graces  of  Christian  character  hfting  their 
meek  blossoms  in  corners  strange  to  us,  and  breathing 
their  fragrance  over  the  pastures  of  the  wilderness.  In 
many  a  cloister,  in  many  a  hermit's  cell,  from  amidst  the 
smoke  of  incense,  through  the  dust  of  controversies,  we 
should  see,  and  be  glad  to  see,  faces  bright  with  the 
radiance  caught  from  Christ  Let  us  set  a  jealous  watch 
over  our  hearts  that  self-absorption,  or  denomination- 
aUsm,  or  envy  do  not  make  the  sight  a  pain  instead  of 
a  joy ;  and  let  us  remember  that  the  eye  salve  which 
will  purge  our  dim  sight  to  behold  the  grace  of  God  in 
all  its  forms  is  that  grace  itself,  which  ever  recognises  its 


v.]        THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS,      117 

own  kindred,  and  lives  in  the  gladness  of  charity,  and 
the  joy  of  beholding  a  brother's  good.  If  we  are  to  have 
eyes  to  know  the  grace  of  God  when  we  see  it,  and  a 
heart  to  rejoice  when  we  know  it,  we  must  get  them 
as  Barnabas  got  his,  and  be  good  men,  because  wc  are 
full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  be- 
cause we  are  full  of  faith. 

III.    What  kg  said:   he  exhorted  them  ally  that  with 
purpose  of  heart  they  would  cleave  unto  the  Lord, 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  one  about  this  all-sufficient 
directory  for  Christian  life  is  the  emphasis  with  which 
it  sets  forth  "  the  Ix)rd  "  as  the  one  object  to  be  grasped 
and  held.  The  sura  of  all  objective  Religion  is  Christ — 
the  sum  of  all  subjective  Religion  is  cleaving  to  Him.  A' 
living  person  to  be  laid  hold  of,  and  a  personal  relation  to 
that  person,  such  is  the  conception  of  Religion,  whether 
considered  as  revelation  or  as  inward  life,  which  under- 
lies this  exhortation.  Whether  we  listen  to  His  own 
words  about  Himself^  and  mark  the  altogether  unpre- 
cedented way  in  which  He  was  His  own  theme,  and  the 
unique  decisiveness  and  plainness  with  which  He  puts  His 
own  personaUty  before  us  as  the  Incarnate  Truth,  the 
pattern  for  all  human  conduct,  the  refuge  and  the  rest  for 
the  world  of  weary  ones ;  or  whether  we  give  ear  to  the 
teaching  of  His  apostles ;  from  whatever  point  of  view  wc 
approach  Christianity,  it  all  resolves  itself  into  the  person 
of  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  the  Revelation  of  God;  theology 
properly  so  called  is  but  the  formulating  of  the  facts 
which  He  gives  as ;  and  for  the  modem  world  th«  alter- 


1 18     THE  EXHORTA  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [serm. 

native  is,  Christ  the  manifested  God,  or  no  God  at  all, 
other  than  the  shadow  of  a  name.  He  is  the  perfect 
exemplar  of  humanity !  The  law  of  life  and  the  power 
to  fulfil  the  law  are  both  in  Him  ;  and  the  superiority  of 
Christian  morahty  consists  not  in  this  or  that  isolated 
precept,  but  in  the  embodiment  of  all  goodness  in  His 
life,  and  in  the  new  motive  which  He  supplies  for  keep- 
ing the  commandment  Wrenched  away  from  Him, 
Christian  morality  has  no  being.  He  is  the  sacrifice  /or 
the  worlds  the  salvation  of  which  flows  from  what  He 
does,  and  not  merely  from  what  He  taught,  or  was.  His 
personality  is  the  foundation  of  His  work,  and  the  gospel 
of  forgiveness  and  reconciliation  is  all  contained  in  the 
name  of  Jesus. 

There  is  a  constant  tendency  to  separate  the  results  of 
Christ's  life  and  death,  whether  considered  as  revelation, 
ethics,  or  atonement,  from  Him,  and  unconsciously  to 
make  these  the  sum  of  our  Religion,  and  the  object  of  our 
faith.  Especially  is  this  the  case  in  times  of  restless 
thought  and  eager  canvassing  of  the  very  foundations  of  re- 
ligious belief  Hke  the  present.  Therefore  it  is  wholesome 
for  us  all  to  be  brought  back  to  the  pregnant  simplicity  of 
the  thought  which  underhes  this  text,  and  to  mark  how 
vividly  these  early  Christians  apprehended  a  living  Lord 
as  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  which  they  had  to  grasp. 

There  is  a  whole  world  between  the  man  to  whom 
God's  revelation  consists  in  certain  doctrines  given  to  us 
by  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  man  to  whom  it  consists  in  that 
Christ  Himself  Grasping  a  living  person  is  not  the 
tame  as  accepting  a  proposition.     True,  the  propositions 


v.]        THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS.      1 19 

are  about  Him,  and  we  do  not  know  Him  without  them. 
But  equally  true,  we  need  to  be  reminded  that  He  is  our 
Saviour  and  not  they,  and  that  God  has  revealed  Himself 
to  us  not  in  words  and  sentences  but  in  a  life. 

For,  alas !  the  doctrinal  element  has  overborne  the 
personal  among  all  Churches  and  all  schools  of  thought, 
and  in  the  necessary  process  of  formulating  and  systema- 
tising  the  riches  which  are  in  Jesus,  we  are  all  apt  to 
confound  the  creeds  with  the  Christ,  and  so  to  manipulate 
Christianity  until,  instead  of  being  the  revelation  of  a 
person  and  a  gospel,  it  has  become  a  system  of  divinity. 
Simple,  devout  souls  have  to  complain  that  they  cannot 
find  even  a  dead  Christ,  to  say  nothing  of  a  living  one, 
for  the  theolggians  have  taken  away  their  Lord,  and  they 
know  not  where  they  have  laid  Him. 

It  is,  therefore,  to  be  reckoned  as  a  distinct  gain  that 
one  result  of  the  course  of  the  more  recent  thought,  both 
among  friends  and  foes,  has  been  to  make  all  men  feel 
more  than  before,  that  all  revelation  is  contained  in  the 
living  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  So  did  the  Church  believe 
before  creeds  were.  So  it  is  coming  to  feel  again  with  a 
consciousness  enriched  and  defined  by  the  whole  body  of 
doctrine,  which  has  flowed  from  Him  during  all  the  ages. 
That  solemn,  gracious  figure  rises  day  by  day  more  clearly 
before  men,  whether  they  love  Him  or  no,  as  the  vital 
centre  of  this  great  whole  of  doctrines,  laws,  institutions, 
which  we  call  Christianity.  Round  the  storj^  of  His  life  the 
final  struggle  is  to  be  waged.  The  foe  feels  that,  so  long  as 
that  remains,  all  other  victories  count  for  notliing.  We 
feel  that  if  that  goes,  there  is  nothing  to  keep.    The 


I20     THE  EXHORTA  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [serm 

principles  and  the  precepts  will  perish  alike,  as  the  fair 
palace  of  the  old  legend,  that  crumbled  to  dust  when  its 
builder  died.  But  so  long  as  He  stands  before  mankind 
as  He  is  painted  in  the  Gospel,  it  will  endure.  If  all 
else  were  annihilated,  Churches,  creeds  and  all,  leave  us 
these  four  gospels,  and  all  else  would  be  evolved  again. 
The  world  knows  now,  and  the  Church  has  always  known, 
though  it  has  not  always  been  true  to  the  significance  of 
the  fact,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Christianity,  and  that  because 
He  lives,  it  will  live  also. 

And  consequently  the  sum  of  all  personal  religion  is 
this  simple  act  described  here  as  cleaving  to  Him, 

Need  I  do  more  than  refer  to  the  rich  variety  of  symbols 
and  forms  of  expression  under  which  that  thought  is  put 
alike  by  the  Mastw:  and  by  His  servants  ?  Deepest  of  all 
are  His  own  great  words,  of  which  our  text  is  but  a  feeble 
echo, "  Abide  m  Me,  and  I  m  you."  Fairest  of  all  is  this 
lovely  emblem  of  the  vine,  setting  forth  the  sweet  mystery 
of  our  union  with  Him.  Far  as  it  is  from  the  outmost 
pliant  tendril  to  the  root,  one  life  passes  to  the  very  ex- 
tremities, and  every  cluster  swells  and  reddens  and 
mellows  because  of  its  mysterious  flow.  So  also  is  Christ 
We  remember  how  often  the  invitation  flowed  from  His 
lips,  CofM  unto  Me ;  how  He  was  wont  to  beckon  men 
away  from  self  and  the  world  with  the  great  command, 
Follow  Me ;  how  He  explained  the  secret  of  all  true  life  to 
consist  in  eating  Him.  We  may  recall,  too,  the  emphasis 
and  perpetual  reiteration  with  which  Paul  speaks  of  being' 
"  in  Jesus  "  as  the  condition  of  all  blessedness,  power,  and 
righteousness;  and  the   emblems  which   he    so  often 


v.]        THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS.      121 

employs  of  the  building  bound  into  a  whole  on  the 
foundation  from  which  it  derives  its  stability,  of  the  body 
compacted  and  organised  into  a  whole  by  the  head  from 
which  it  derives  its  life. 

We  begin  to  be  Christians,  as  this  context  tells  us, 
when  we  "  turn  to  the  Lord."  We  continue  to  be  Chris- 
tians, as  Barnabas  reminded  these  ignorant  beginners, 
by  "  cleaving  to  the  Lord."  Seeing,  then,  that  our  great 
task  is  to  preserve  that  which  we  have  as  the  very  founda- 
tion of  our  Christian  life,  clearly  the  truest  method  of  so 
keeping  it  will  be  the  constant  repetition  of  the  act  by 
which  we  got  it  at  first.  In  other  words,  faith  joined  us 
to  Christ,  and  continuously  reiterated  acts  of  faith  keep 
us  united  to  Him.  So,  if  I  may  venture,  fathers  and 
brethren,  to  cast  my  words  into  the  form  of  exhortation, 
even  to  such  an  audience  as  the  present,  I^woulc^  earnestly 
say.  Let  us  cleave  to  Christ  by  continual  renaval  of  our 
first  faith  in  Him, 

The  longest  line  may  be  conceived  of  as  produced 
simply  by  the  motion  of  its  initial  point  So  should  our 
lives  be,  our  progress  not  consisting  in  leaving  our  early 
acts  of  faith  behind  us,  but  in  repeating  them  over  and 
over  again  till  the  points  coalesce  in  one  unbroken  line 
which  goes  straight  to  the  Throne  and  Heart  of  Jesus. 
True,  the  repetition  should  be  accompanied  with  fuller 
knowledge,  with  calmer  certitude,  and  should  come  from 
a  heart  ennobled  and  encircled  by  a  Christ-possessing 
post  As  in  some  great  symphony  the  theme  which  was 
griven  out  in  low  notes  on  one  poor  instrument  recurs 
over  and  over  again  embroidered  with  varying  harmonies, 


122     THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [serm. 

and  unfolding  a  richer  music  till  it  swells  into  all  the 
grandeur  of  the  triumphant  close,  so  our  lives  should  be 
bound  into  a  unity,  and  in  their  unity  bound  to  Christ  by 
the  constant  renewal  of  our  early  faith,  and  the  fathers 
come  round  again  to  the  place  which  they  occupied  when 
as  children  they  first  knew  Him  that  is  from  the  Begin- 
aing  to  the  End  one  and  the  same.  Such  constant 
reiteration  is  needed,  too,  because  yesterday's  trust  has  no 
more  power  to  secure  to-day's  union  than  the  shreds  of 
cloth  and  nails  which  hold  last  year's  growth  to  the  wall 
will  fasten  this  year's  shoots.  Each  moment  must  be 
united  to  Christ  by  its  own  act  of  faith,  or  it  will  be 
separated  from  Him.  So  living  in  the  Lord  we  shall  be 
strong  and  wise,  happy  and  holy.  So  dying  in  the  Lord 
we  shall  be  of  the  dead  who  are  blessed.  So  sleeping  in 
Jesus^  we  shall  at  the  last  be  found  in  Him  at  that  day, 
and  shall  be  raised  up  together,  and  made  to  sit  together 
in  heavenly  places  in  Christ  /esus. 

But  more  specially  let  us  cleave  to  Christ  by  habitual 
contemplation.  There  can  be  no  real  continuous  closeness 
of  intercourse  with  Him,  except  by  thought  ever  recurring 
to  Him  amidst  all  the  tumult  of  our  busy  days.  I  do  not 
mean  professional  thinking,  or  controversial  thinking,  of 
which  we  ministers  have  more  than  enough. 

There  is  another  mood  of  mind  in  which  to  approach 
our  Lord  than  these,  a  mood  sadly  unfamiliar,  I  am  afraid, 
in  these  days :  when  poor  Mary  has  hardly  a  chance  of  a 
reputation  for  "  usefulness  "  by  the  side  of  busy  bustling 
Martha — that  still  contemplation  of  the  truth  which  we 
possess,  not  with  the  view  of  discovering  its  foundations, 


v.]        THE  EXHORTA  TION  OF  BARNABAS.      123 


or  investigating  its  applications,  or  even  of  increasing  our 
knowledge  of  its  contents,  but  of  bringing  our  own  souls 
more  completely  under  its  influence,  and  saturating  our 
being  with  its  fragrance.  The  Church  has  forgotten  how 
to  meditate.  We  are  all  so  occupied  arguing  and  dedu- 
cing and  elaborating,  that  we  have  no  time  for  retired  still 
contemplation  and,  therefore,  lose  the  finest  aroma  of  the 
truth  we  profess  to  believe.  Many  of  us  are  so  busy 
thinking  about  Christianity  that  we  have  lost  our  hold  of 
Christ  Sure  I  am  that  there  are  few  things  more  needed 
by  our  modem  Religion  than  the  old  exhortation,  **  Come, 
My  people,  enter  into  thy  chambers  and  shut  thy  doors 
about  thee."  Cleave  to  the  Lord  by  habitual  play  of 
meditative  thought  on  the  treasures  hidden  in  His  name, 
and  waiting  like  gold  in  the  quartz,  to  be  the  prize  of  our 
patient  sifting  and  close  gaze. 

And  when  the  great  truths  embodied  in  Him  stand 
dear  before  us,  then  let  us  remember  that  we  have  not 
done  with  them  when  we  have  seen  them.  Next  must 
come  into  exercise  the  moral  side  of  faith,  the  voluntary 
act  of  trust,  the  casting  ourselves  on  Him  whom  we  be- 
hold, the  making  our  own  of  the  blessings  which  He 
holds  out  to  us.  Flee  to  Christ  as  to  our  strong  habita- 
tion to  which  we  may  continually  resort  Hold  tightly 
by  Christ  with  a  grasp  which  nothing  can  slacken  (that 
whitens  your  very  knuckles  as  you  clutch  Him),  lean  on 
Christ  all  your  weight  and  all  your  burdens.  Cleave  to 
the  Lord  with  full  purpose  of  heart 

Let  us  cleave  to  the  Lord  by  constant  outgoings  §/  »ur 
l$ve  U  Him.      That  is  the  bond  which  unitei  humas 


124     THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [skrm. 

spirits  together  in  the  only  real  union,  and  Scripture 
teaches  us  to  see  in  the  sweetest  sacredest  closest  tie 
that  men  and  women  can  know,  a  real  thongh  faint 
shadow  of  the  far  deeper  and  truer  union  between  Christ 
and  us.  The  same  love  which  is  the  bond  of  perfectness 
between  man  and  man,  is  the  bond  between  us  and 
Christ  In  no  dreamy  semi-pantheistic  fusion  of  the 
believer  with  His  Lord  do  we  find  the  true  conception  of 
the  unity  of  Christ  and  His  Church,  but  in  a  union  which 
preserves  the  individualities  lest  it  should  slay  the  love. 
Faith  knits  us  to  Christ,  and  faith  is  the  mother  of  love, 
which  maintains  the  blessed  union.  So  let  us  not  be 
ashamed  of  the  emotional  side  of  our  religion,  nor  deem 
that  we  can  cleave  to  Christ  unless  our  hearts  twine  their 
tendrils  round  Him,  and  our  love  pours  its  odorous 
treasures  on  His  sacred  feet,  not  without  weeping  nor  em- 
braces. Cold  natures  may  carp,  but  Love  is  justified  of 
her  children,  and  Christ  accepts  the  homage  that  has  a 
heart  in  it  Cleaving  to  the  Lord  is  not  merely  love, 
but  it  is  impossible  without  it  The  order  is  Faith, 
Love,  Obedience,  that  threefold  cord  knits  men  to  Christ, 
and  Christ  to  men.  For  the  understanding  a  continuous 
grasp  of  Him  as  the  object  of  thought  For  the  heart 
a  continuous  out-going  to  Him  as  the  object  of  our  love. 
For  the  will  a  continuous  submission  to  Him  as  the 
Lord  of  our  Obedience.  For  the  whole  nature  a 
continuous  cleaving  to  Him  as  the  object  of  our  faith 
and  worship. 

Such  is  the  true  discipline  of  the  Christian  life.    Such  is 
the  all-sufficient  command;  as  for  the  newest  co&Ttrt 


V,]        THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS.      125 

from  heathenism,  with  little  knowledge  and  the  taint  ol 
his  old  vices  in  his  soul,  so  for  the  saint  fullest  of  wisdom 
and  nearest  the  Light 

It  is  all-sufficient  If  Barnabas  had  been  like  some  of 
us,  he  would  have  had  a  very  different  style  of  exhorta- 
tion. He  would  have  said,  This  irregular  work  has  been 
well  done,  but  there  are  no  authorised  teachers  here,  and 
no  provision  has  been  made  for  the  due  administration  of 
the  sacraments  of  the  Church.  The  very  first  thing  of  all 
is  to  give  these  people  the  blessing  of  bishops  and  priests. 
Some  of  us  would  have  said,  A  good  work  has  been  done, 
but  these  good  people  are  terribly  ignorant  The  best 
thing  would  be  to  get  ready  as  soon  as  possible  some 
manual  of  Christian  doctrine,  and  in  the  meantime  pro- 
vide for  their  systematic  instruction  in  at  least  the 
elements  of  the  faith.  Some  of  us  would  have  said,  No 
doubt  they  have  been  converted,  but  we  fear  there  has 
been  too  much  of  the  emotional  in  the  preaching.  The 
moral  side  of  Christianity  has  not  been  pressed  home, 
and  what  they  chiefly  need  is  to  be  taught  that  it  is  not 
feeling  but  righteousness.  Plain  practical  instruction  in 
Christian  duty  is  the  one  thing  they  want 

Barnabas  knew  better.  He  did  not  despise  organi- 
sation, nor  orthodoxy,  nor  practical  righteousness,  but  he 
knew  that  all  three,  and  everything  else  that  any  man 
needed  for  his  perfecting,  would  come,  if  only  they  kept 
near  to  Christ,  and  that  nothing  else  was  of  any  use  if 
they  did  not  That  same  conviction  should  for  us 
settle  the  relative  importance  which  we  attach  to  these 
subordinate  and  derivative  things,  and  to  the  primary 


126     THE  EXHORTA  TION  OF  BARNABAS,  [serm. 

and  primitive  duty.     Obedience  to  it  will  secure  them. 
They,  without  it,  are  not  worth  securing. 

We  spend  much  pains  and  effort  now-a-days  in  perfect- 
ing our  organisations  and  consolidating  our  resources ; 
and  I  have  not  a  word  to  say  against  that  But  heavier 
machinery  needs  more  power  in  the  engine,  and  that 
means  greater  capacity  in  your  boilers  and  more  fire  in 
your  furnace.  The  more  complete  our  organisation,  the 
more  do  we  need  a  firm  hold  of  Christ,  or  we  shall  be 
overweighted  by  it,  shall  be  in  danger  of  burning  incense 
to  our  own  net,  shall  be  tempted  to  trust  in  drill  rather 
than  in  courage,  in  mechanisjti  rather  than  in  the  life 
drawn  from  Christ  On  the  other  hand,  putting  as  our 
first  care  the  preservation  of  the  closeness  of  our  union 
with  Christ,  that  life  will  shape  a  body  for  itself;  and  to 
every  seed  its  own  body. 

True  conceptions  of  Him,  and  a  definite  theology^  are  good 
and  needful  Let  us  cleave  to  Him  with  mind  and  heart, 
and  we  shall  receive  all  the  knowledge  we  need,  and  be 
guided  into  the  deep  things  of  God.  In  Him  are  hid  all 
the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge,  and  the  basis  of 
all  theology  is  the  personal  possession  of  Him  who  is  the 
wisdom  of  God,  and  the  light  of  the  world.  Every  one 
that  loveth  is  bom  of  God  and  knowcth  God.  Pectus 
facit  Theologum, 

Plain  straightforward  morality,  and  every-day  right- 
eousness are  better  than  all  emotion  and  all  dogmatism 
and  all  churchism,  says  the  world,  and  Christianity  says 
much  the  same ;  but  plain  straightforward  righteousness 
and  every-day  morality  come  most  surtly  when  a  man  ii 


T.]        THE  EXHORT  A  TION  OF  BARNABAS.      117 

keeping  close  to  Christ  In  a  word,  everything  that  can 
adorn  the  character  with  beauty,  and  clothe  the  Church 
with  glorious  apparel,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely  and  of 
good  report,  all  that  the  world  or  God  call  virtue  and 
crown  with  praise,  they  are  all  in  their  fulness  in  Him, 
and  all  are  most  surely  derived  from  Him  by  keeping 
fast  hold  of  His  hand,  and  preserving  the  channels  clear 
through  which  His  manifold  grace  may  flow  into  our 
souls.  The  same  life  is  strength  in  the  arm,  pliancy  in  the 
fingers,  swiftness  in  the  foot,  hght  in  the  eye,  music  on 
the  lips ;  so  the  same  grace  is  Protean  in  its  forms,  and  to 
His  servants  who  trust  Him  Christ  ever  says,  "  What  would 
ye  that  I  should  do  unto  you  ?  Be  it  even  as  thou  wik." 
The  same  mysterious  power  Uves  in  the  swa3dng  branch, 
and  in  the  veined  leaf,  and  in  the  blushing  clusters.  With 
like  wondrous  transformations  of  the  one  grace,  the  Lord 
pours  Himself  into  our  spirits,  fiUing  all  needs  and  fitting 
for  all  circumstances.  Therefore  for  us  all,  individuals 
and  Churches,  this  remains  the  prime  conmiand.  With 
purpose  of  heart  cleave  unto  the  Lord.  Dear  brethren, 
in  the  ministry  how  sorely  we  need  this  exhortation  I  Our 
very  professional  occupation  with  Christ  and  His  truth  is 
full  of  danger  for  us,  we  are  so  accustomed  to  handle 
these  sacred  themes  as  a  means  of  instructing  or  impres- 
sing others  that  we  get  to  regard  them  as  our  weapons, 
even  if  we  do  not  degrade  them  still  further  by  thinking  of 
them  as  our  stock-in-trade  and  means  of  oratorical  effect 
We  must  keep  very  firm  hold  of  Christ  for  ourselves  by 
much  solitary  communion,  and  so  retranslating  into  the 
Qutriment  of  our  own  souls  the  message  we  bring  to  men, 


128  THE  EXHORTATION  OF  BARNABAS,    [serm. 

else  when  we  have  preached  to  others  we  ourselves  may 
be  cast  away.  All  the  ordinary  tendencies  which  draw 
men  from  Him  work  on  us,  and  a  host  of  others  peculiar 
to  ourselves,  and  all  around  us  run  strong  currents  of 
thought  which  threaten  to  sweep  many  away.  Let  us 
tighten  our  grasp  of  Him  in  the  face  of  modem  doubt; 
and  take  heed  to  ourselves  that  neither  vanity,  nor  world- 
liness,  nor  sloth ;  neither  the  gravitation  earthward  common 
to  all,  nor  the  temptations  proper  to  our  office;  neither 
unbelieving  voices  without  nor  voices  within  seduce  us 
from  His  side.  There  only  is  our  peace,  there  our  wisdom, 
there  our  power. 

Subtly  and  silently  the  separating  forces  are  ever  at 
work  upon  us,  and  all  unconsciously  to  ourselves  our 
hold  may  relax  and  the  flow  of  this  grace  into  our  spirits 
may  cease,  while  yet  we  mechanically  keep  up  the  round  of 
outward  service,  nor  even  suspect  that  our  strength  is 
departed  from  us.  Many  a  stately  elm  that  seems  full  of 
vigorous  life,  for  all  its  spreading  boughs  and  clouds  of 
dancing  leaves  is  hollow  at  the  heart,  and  when  the  storm 
comes  goes  down  with  a  crash,  and  men  wonder  as  they 
look  at  the  ruin,  how  such  a  mere  shell  of  life  with  a  core 
of  corruption  could  stand  so  long.  It  rotted  within  and 
fell  at  last  because  its  roots  did  not  go  deep  down  to 
the  rich  soil,  where  they  would  have  found  nourishment, 
but  ran  along  near  the  surface  among  gravel  and  stones. 
If  we  would  stand  firm,  be  sound  within,  and  bring  forth 
much  fruit,  we  must  strike  our  roots  deep  in  Him  Who 
is  the  anchorage  of  our  souls,  and  the  nourisher  of  all 
our  being. 


v.]        THE  EXHORTA  HON  OF  BARNABAS,      139 

Hearken,  beloved  brethren,  in  this  great  work  of  the 
ministry,  not  to  the  exhortation  of  the  servant,  but  to  the 
solemn  command  of  the  Master,  **  Abide  in  Me,  and  I 
in  you.  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  truit  of  itself,  except 
it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  tt/ore  can  ye,  except  ye  abide  in 
Me."  And  let  us,  knowing  our  own  weakness,  take  heed 
of  the  self-confidence  that  answers,  "  Though  all  should 
forsake  Thee,  yet  will  not  I,**  and  turn  the  vows,  which 
spring  to  our  lips  into  the  lowly  prayer  *'  My  soul  cleaveth 
unto  the  dust,  quicken  Thou  me  according  to  Thy  word." 
Then,  thinking  rather  of  His  cleaving  to  us,  than  of  our 
cleaving  to  Hira,  let  us,  resolutely,  take  as  the  motto  of  our 
lives  the  grand  words  :  "  I  follow  after  if  that  I  may  lay 
hold  of  that,  for  wliich  also  X  am  laid  hold  of  byChrist. 
Jesuib* 


SERMON  VI. 

MKASURELESS  POWER  AND  ENDLESS  GLORY. 

Ephksians  iii.  20^  31. 

Now  uto  Him  that  b  able  to  do  exceeding  abundaatlj  abore  all 
that  we  ask  or  think,  according  to  the  power  that  worketh  in  vi, 
Unto  Him  be  glory  in  the  Church  bj  Christ  Jesns  throughout 
all  ages,  world  without  end.    Amen. 

/^N£  purpose  and  blessing  of  faithful  prayer  it  to  eii- 
^-^  large  the  desires  which  it  expresses,  and  to  make 
us  think  more  loftily  of  the  grace  to  which  we*  appeal  So 
the  apostle,  in  the  wonderful  series  of  supplications  which 
precedes  the  text,  has  found  his  thought  of  what  he  may 
hope  for  his  brethren  at  Ephesus  grow  greater  with  every 
clause.  His  prayer  rises  like  some  songbird,  in  ever 
widening  sweeps,  each  higher  in  the  blue,  and  nearer  the 
throne ;  and  at  each  a  sweeter,  fuller  note. 

"  Strengthened  with  might  by  His  Spirit  * ;  "  that  Christ 
may  dwell  in  your  hearts  by  faith " ;  "  that  ye  may  be 
able  to  know  the  lore  of  Christ " ;  "  that  yc  might  be  filled 
with  all  the  fulness  of  God. "  Here  he  touches  the  very 
throne.  Beyond  that  nothing  can  be  conceived.  But 
though  that  sublime  petition  may  be  the  end  of  thought, 
it  is  not  tht  end  of  faith.    Though  God  can  give  us 


SKRM.VL]         MEASURELESS  POWER,  131 

nothing  more  than  it  is,  He  can  give  us  more  than  we 
think  it  to  be,  and  more  than  we  ask,  when  we  ask  this. 
Therefore  the  grand  doxology  of  our  text  crowns  and 
surpasses  even  this  great  prayer.  The  higher  true  prayer 
climbs,  the  wider  is  its  view ;  and  the  wider  is  its  view, 
the  more  conscious  is  it  that  the  horizon  of  its  vision  is 
far  within  the  borders  of  the  goodly  land.  And  as  we 
gaze  into  what  we  can  discern  of  the  fulness  of  God, 
prayer  will  melt  into  thanksgiving  and  the  doxology  for 
the  swift  answer  will  follow  close  upon  the  last  words  of 
supplication.     So  is  it  here  :  so  it  may  be  always. 

The  form  of  our  text,  then,  marks  the  confidence  of 
Paul's  prayer.  The  exuberant  fervour  of  his  faith,  as 
well  as  his  natural  impetuosity  and  ardour,  comes  out 
in  the  heaped-up  words  expressive  of  immensity  and 
duration.  He  is  like  some  archer  watching,  with  parted 
lips,  the  flight  of  his  arrow  to  the  mark.  He  is  gazing  on 
God  confident  that  he  has  not  asked  in  vain.  Let  at 
look  with  him,  that  we,  too,  may  be  heartened  to  expect 
great  tilings  of  God.     Notice,  then — 

L  Tfu  Measure  of  the  Power  to  which  we  trust 
This  Epistle  is  remarkable  for  its  frequent  references 
to  the  Divine  rule,  or  standard,  or  measure,  in  accor- 
dance with  which  the  great  facts  of  redemption  take  place. 
The  "things  on  the  earth" — the  historical  processes  by 
which  salvation  is  brought  to  men  and  works  in  men 
— are  ever  traced  up  to  the  "things  in  heaven;**  the 
Divine  counsels  from  which  they  have  come  forth. 
That  phrase.  "  a^icording  to,"  is  perpetually  occurring  in 

K  t 


133  MEASURELESS  POWER  AND        [skrm. 

this  connection  in  the  Epistle.  It  is  applied  mainly  in 
two  directions.  It  serves  sometimes  to  bring  into  view 
the  ground,  or  reason,  of  the  redemptive  facts,  as,  foi 
instance,  in  the  expression  that  these  take  place  "  ac 
cording  to  His  good  pleasure  which  He  hath  purposed 
in  Himself,  It  serves  sometimes  to  bring  into  view 
the  measure  by  which  the  working  of  these  redemptive 
facts  is  determined ;  as  in  our  text,  and  in  many  other 
places. 

Now  there  are  three  main  forms  under  which  this 
standard,  or  measure,  of  the  Redeeming  Power  is  set  forth 
in  this  Epistle,  and  it  will  help  us  to  grasp  the  greatness 
of  the  apostle's  thought  if  we  consider  these. 

Take,  then,  first,  that  clause  in  the  earlier  portion  of 
the  preceding  prayer,  "  that  He  would  grant  you  aaor- 
ding  to  the  riches  of  His  gloryr  The  measure,  then,  of 
the  gift  that  we  may  hope  to  receive  is  the  measure  of 
God's  own  fulness.  The  "  riches  of  His  glory  "  can  be 
nothing  less  than  the  whole  uncounted  abundance  of  that 
majestic  and  far-shining  Nature,  as  it  pours  itself  forth  in 
the  dazzling  perfectnesses  of  its  own  Self-manifestatioa 
And  nothing  less  than  this  great  treasure  is  to  be  the 
limit  and  standard  of  His  gift  to  us.  We  are  the  sons  of 
the  King,  and  the  allowance  which  He  makes  us  even 
before  we  come  to  our  inheritance  is  proportionate  to 
our  Father's  wealth.  The  same  stupendous  thought  is 
given  us  in  that  prayer,  heavy  with  the  blessed  weight 
of  unspeakable  gifts,  "  that  ye  might  be  filled  with  all  the 
fulness  of  God";  this,  then,  is  the  measure  of  the  grace 
that  we  may  possess.     This  limitless  Hnut  alone  boondf 


in.]  ENDLESS  GLORY,  133 

the  possibilities  for  every  man,  the  certainties  for  every 

Christian. 

The  effect  must  be  proportioned  to  the  cause.  And 
what  effect  will  be  adequate  as  the  outcome  of  such  a 
cause  as  "  the  riches  of  His  glory  "  ?  Nothing  short  of 
absolute  perfectness,  the  full  transmutation  of  our  dark, 
cold  being  into  the  reflected  image  of  His  own  burning 
brightness,  the  ceaseless  replenishing  of  our  own  spirits  with 
all  graces  and  gladnesses  akin  to  His,  the  eternal  growth 
of  the  soul  upward  and  Godward.  Perfection  is  the  sign- 
manual  of  God  in  all  His  works,  just  as  imperfection  and 
the  falling  below  our  thought  and  wish  is  our  "  token  in 
every  Epistle  "  and  deed  of  ours.  Take  the  finest  needle, 
and  put  it  below  a  microscope,  and  it  will  be  all  ragged 
and  irregular,  the  fine,  tapering  lines  will  be  broken  by 
many  a  bulge  and  bend,  and  the  point  blunt  and  clumsy. 
Put  the  blade  of  grass  to  the  same  test,  and  see  how  true 
its  outline,  how  delicate  and  true  the  spear-head  of  its 
point  God's  work  is  perfect,  man's  is  clumsy  and  in- 
complete. God  does  not  leave  off  till  He  has  finished. 
When  He  rests,  it  is  because,  looking  on  His  work,  He 
sees  it  all  "  very  good."  His  Sabbath  is  the  Sabbath  of 
an  achieved  purpose,  of  a  fulfilled  counsel  The  palaces 
which  we  build  are  ever  like  that  in  the  story,  where  one 
vindow  remains  dark  and  unjewelled,  while  the  rest  blaze 
n  beauty.  But  when  God  builds,  none  can  say,  "  He 
was  not  able  to  finish."  In  His  great  palace  He  makes 
her  "  windows  of  agates  *  and  all  her  "  borders  of  pleasant 
stones." 

So  we  have  a  right  to  enlarge  our  desires  and  stretch 


134  MEASURELESS  POWER  AND        [SlRM. 

our  confidence  of  what  we  may  possess  and  become  to 
this,  His  boundless  bound  :  "  The  riches  of  glory." 

But  another  form  in  which  the  standard,  or  measure, 
is  stated  in  this  letter  is  :  "  The  working  of  His  mighty 
Power,  which  He  wrought  in  Christ,  when  He  raised 
Him  from  the  dead  "  (L  19,  20)  ;  or,  as  it  i%  put  with  a 
modification,  "  grace  according  to  the  measure  of  the  gift 
of  Christ "  (iv.  7).  That  is  to  say,  we  have  not  only  the 
whole  riches  of  the  Divine  glory  as  the  measure  to  which 
we  may  lift  our  hopes,  but  lest  that  celestial  brightness 
should  seem  too  high  above  us,  and  too  far  from  us,  we 
have  Christ  in  His  Human-Divine  manifestation,  and 
especially  in  the  great  fact  of  the  resurrection,  set  before 
us,  that  by  Him  we  may  learn  what  God  wills  we  should 
become.  The  former  phase  of  the  standard  may  sound 
abstract,  cloudy,  hard  to  connect  with  any  definite  antici- 
pations ;  and  so  this  form  of  it  is  concrete,  historical,  and 
gives  human  features  to  the  fair  ideal  His  resurrection 
is  the  high-water-mark  of  the  Divine  power,  and  to  the 
same  level  it  will  rise  again  in  regard  to  every  Christian. 
That  Lord,  in  the  glory  of  His  risen  life,  and  in  the 
riches  of  the  gifts  which  He  received  when  He  ascended 
up  on  high,  is  the  pattern  for  us,  and  the  power  which 
fiilfils  its  own  pattern.  In  Him  we  see  what  man  may 
become,  and  what  His  followers  must  become.  The 
limits  of  that  power  will  not  be  reached  until  every 
Chnstian  soul  is  perfectly  assimilated  to  that  likeness, 
and  bears  all  its  beauty  in  his  face,  nor  till  every  Chris- 
tian soul  is  raised  to  participation  in  Christ's  dignity  and 
ats  on  His  throne.    Then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  the 


VI.]  ENDLESS  GLORY,  135 


purpose  of  God  be  fulfilled  and  the  gift  which  is  measured 
by  the  riches  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  fulness  of  the 
Son's  grace,  be  possessed  or  conceived  in  its  measureles.< 
measure. 

But  there  is  a  third  form  in  which  this  same  standard 
is  represented.  That  is  the  form  which  is  found  in  our 
text,  and  in  other  places  of  tht  Epistle  :  "  According  to 
the  Power  that  worketh  in  us** 

What  power  is  that  but  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
dwelling  in  us  ?  And  thus  we  have  the  measure,  or  stand- 
ard, set  forth  in  terms  respectively  applying  to  the  Father, 
the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  For  the  first,  the  riches 
of  His  glory;  for  the  seccnd,  His  resurrection  and  ascen- 
sion ;  for  the  third.  His  energy  working  in  Christian  souls. 
The  first,  carries  us  up  into  the  mysteries  of  God,  where 
the  air  is  almost  too  subtle  for  our  gross  lungs ;  the  second 
draws  nearer  to  earth  and  points  us  to  an  historical 
fact  that  happened  in  this  every-day  world ;  the  third, 
comes  still  nearer  to  us,  and  bids  us  look  within,  and  see 
wiiCiher  what  we  are  conscious  of  there,  if  we  interpret 
it  by  the  light  of  these  other  measures,  will  not  yield 
results  as  great  as  theirs,  and  open  before  us  the  same 
fair  prospect  of  perfect  holiness  and  conformity  to  the 
Divine  nature. 

There  is  already  a  Power  at  work  within  us,  if  we  be 
Christians,  of  whose  workings  we  may  be  aware,  and  from 
them  forecast  the  measure  of  the  gifts  which  it  can  be- 
stow upon  us.  We  may  estimate  what  will  be  by  what 
we  know  has  been,  and  by  what  we  feel  is.  That  is  to 
say,  in  other  words,  the  eflfects  abready  produced,  and  the 


136  MEASURELESS  POWER  AND         [serm. 

experiences  we  have  already  had,   cany  in  them  the 
pledge  of  completeness. 

I  suppose  that  if  the  mediaeral  dream  had  ever  come 
true,  and  an  alchemist  had  ever  turned  a  grain  of  lead 
into  gold,  he  could  have  turned  all  the  lead  in  the  world 
in  time,  and  with  crucibles  and  furnaces  enough.  The 
first  step  is  all  the  difficulty,  and  if  you  and  I  have  been 
changed  from  enemies  into  sons,  and  had  one  spark  of 
love  to  God  kindled  in  our  hearts,  that  is  a  mightiei 
change  than  any  that  remains  to  be  effected  in  order  to 
make  us  perfect  One  grain  has  been  changed,  the 
whole  mass  will  be  in  due  time. 

The  present  operations  of  that  power  carry  in  them  the 
pledge  of  their  own  completion.  The  strange  mingling 
of  good  and  evil  in  our  present  nature,  our  aspirations  so 
crossed  and  contradicted,  our  resolution  so  broken  and 
falsified,  the  gleams  of  light,  and  the  ecHpses  that  follow 
— ^all  these,  in  their  opposition  to  each  other,  are  plainly 
transitory,  and  the  workings  of  that  Power  within  us, 
though  they  be  often  overborne,  are  as  plainly  the  stronger 
in  their  nature,  and  meant  to  conquer  and  to  endure. 
Like  some  half-hewn  block,  such  as  travellers  find  in  long 
abandoned  quarries  whence  Egyptian  temples,  that  were 
destined  never  to  be  completed,  were  built,  our  spirits  are 
but  partly  "  poUshed  after  the  simiUtude  of  a  palace, " 
while  much  remains  in  the  rough.  The  builders  of  these 
temples  have  mouldered  away,  and  their  unfinished  handi- 
work will  lie  as  it  was  when  the  last  chisel  touched  it 
centuries  ago,  till  the  crack  of  doom ;  but  stones  for  God's 
temple  will  be  wrought  to  completeness  and  set  in  their 


VI.]  ENDLESS  GLORY.  I37 


places.  The  whole  threefold  Divine  cause  of  our  sal- 
vation supplies  the  measure,  and  lays  the  foundation  for 
our  hopes,  in  the  glory  of  the  Father,  the  grace  of  the 
Son,  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  Let  us  lift  up  our 
cry:  "Perfect  that  which  concemeth  me,  forsake  not 
the  works  of  Thme  own  hands,"  and  we  shall  have  for 
answer  the  ancient  word,  fresh  as  when  it  sounded  long 
ago  from  among  the  stars  to  the  sleeper  at  the  ladder's 
foot,"  I  will  not  leave  thee,  until  I  have  done  that  which 
I  have  spoken  to  thee  oV* 

IL  Notice  the  relatim  tf  the  Divine  Working  U  our 
thoughts  and  desires. 

The  apostle  in  his  fervid  way  strains  language  to  ex- 
press how  far  the  possibility  of  the  Divine  working  ex- 
tends. He  is  able,  not  only  to  do  all  thmgs,  but "  beyond 
all  thmgs " — a  vehement  way  of  putting  the  boundless 
reach  of  that  gracious  power.  And  what  he  means  by 
this  "  beyond  all  things  '*  is  more  fully  expressed  in 
the  next  words,  in  which  he  labours  by  accumulating 
synonyms  to  convey  his  sense  of  the  transcendent  energy 
which  waits  to  bless  :  **  exceeding  abundantly  above  what 
we  ask."  And  as,  alas  I  our  desires  are  but  shrunken 
and  narrow  beside  our  thoughts,  he  sweeps  a  wider  orbit 
when  he  adds  "above  what  we  think,"  He  has  been 
asking  wonderful  things,  and  yet  even  his  farthest-reach- 
ing petitions  fall  far  on  this  side  of  the  greatness  of  God's 
power.  One  might  think  that  even  it  could  go  no  further 
than  filling  us  "  with  all  the  fiilness  of  God."  Nor  can 
it ;  but  it  may  far  transcend  our  conceptions  of  what 


138  MEASURELESS  POWER  AND        [serm. 

that  is,  and  astonish  us  by  its  surpassing  our  thoughts,  no 
less  than  it  shames  us  by  exceeding  our  prayers. 

Of  course,  all  this  is  true,  and  is  meant  to  apply,  only 
about  the  inward  gifts  of  God's  grace.  I  need  not  re- 
mind you  that,  in  the  outer  world  of  Providence  and 
earthly  gifts,  prayers  and  wishes  often  surpass  the  answers ; 
that  there  a  deeper  wisdom  often  contradicts  our  thoughts 
and  a  truer  kindness  refuses  our  petitions,  and  that  so  the 
rapturous  words  of  our  text  are  only  true  in  a  very  modi- 
fied and  partial  sense  about  God' s  working /^r  us  in  the 
world.  It  is  His  work  in  us  concerning  which  they  are 
absolutely  true. 

Of  course,  we  know  that  in  all  regions  of  His  working 
He  is  able  to  surpass  our  poor  human  conceptions,  and 
that,  properly  speaking,  the  most  famiUar,  and,  as  we 
insolently  call  them,  "  smallest "  of  His  works  holds  in  it 
a  mystery — were  it  none  other  than  the  mystery  of  Being 
— against  which  Thought  has  been  breaking  its  teeth  ever 
since  men  began  to  think  at  alL 

But  as  regards  the  working  of  God  on  our  spiritual 
Uves,  this  passing  beyond  the  bounds  of  thought  and 
desire  is  but  the  necessary  result  of  the  fact  already  dealt 
with,  that  the  only  measure  of  the  power  is  God  Himself, 
in  that  Threefold  Being.  That  being  so,  no  plummet  of 
our  making  can  reach  to  the  bottom  of  the  abyss,  no 
strong-winged  thought  can  fly  to  the  outermost  bound  of 
the  encircUng  heaven.  Widely  as  we  stretch  our  reverent 
conceptions,  there  is  ever  something  beyond.  After  we 
have  resolved  many  a  dim  white  cloud  in  the  starry  sky, 
and  found  it  all  ablaze  with  suns  and  worlds,  there  will 


▼L]  ENDLESS  GLORY.  I39 

still  hang,  faint  and  far  before  us,  hazy  magnificences 
which  we  have  not  apprehended.  Confidently  and  boldly 
as  we  may  offer  our  prayers  and  largely  as  we  may  expect, 
the  answer  is  ever  more  than  the  petition.  For  in- 
deed, in  every  act  of  His  quickening  grace,  in  every  God- 
given  increase  of  our  knowledge  of  God,  in  every  bestow- 
ment  of  His  fiilness,  there  is  always  more  bestowed  than 
we  receive,  more  than  we  know  even  while  we  possess  it 
Like  some  gift  given  in  the  dark,  its  true  preciousness  is 
not  discerned  when  it  is  first  received.  The  gleam  of  the 
gold  does  not  strike  our  eye  all  at  once.  There  is  ever 
an  unknown  margin  felt  by  us  to  be  over  after  our  capa- 
city  of  receiving  is  exhausted.  "  And  they  took  up  of 
the  fragments  that  remained,  twelve  baskets  full" 

So,  then,  let  us  remember  that  while  our  thoughts  and 
prayers  can  never  reach  to  the  full  perception,  or  recep- 
tion either,  o!  the  gift,  the  exuberant  amplitude  with  which 
it  reaches  far  beyond  both  is  meant  to  draw  both  after  it 
And  let  us  not  forget  either  that,  while  the  grace  which 
we  receive  has  no  limit  or  measure  but  the  fiilness  of  God, 
the  working  limit,  which  determines  what  we  receive  of 
the  grace,  is  these  very  thoughts  and  wishes  which  it  sur- 
passes. We  may  have  as  much  of  God  as  we  can  hold, 
as  much  as  we  wish.  All  Niagara  may  roar  past  a  man's 
door,  but  only  as  much  as  he  diverts  through  his  own 
sluice  will  drive  his  mill,  or  quench  his  thirst  That  grace 
is  like  the  figures  in  the  Eastern  tales,  that  will  creep  into 
a  narrow  room  no  bigger  than  a  nutshell,  or  will  tower 
heaven  high.  -  Our  spirits  are  like  the  magic  tent  whose 
walls  expanded  or  contracted  at  the  owner's  wish — we 


I40  MEASURELESS  POWER  AND         [SERll. 

may  enlarge  them  to  enclose  far  more  of  the  grace  than 
we  have  ever  possessed.  We  are  not  straitened  in  God, 
but  in  ourselves.  He  is  "  able  to  do  exceeding  abun- 
dantly above  what  we  ask  or  think,"  Therefore  let  us 
stretch  desires  and  thoughts  to  their  utmost,  remcmber- 
mg  that  while  they  can  never  reach  the  measure  of  His 
grace  in  itself,  they  make  the  practical  measure  of  our 
possession  of  it.  "  According  to  thy  faith, "  is  a  real 
measure  of  the  gift  received,  even  though  "  according  to 
the  riches  of  His  glory"  be  the  measure  of  the  gift 
bestowed.     Note,  again. 

IIL  The  Glory  that  springs  from  the  Divine  Work, 

**  The  glory  of  God  "  is  the  lustre  of  His  own  perfect 
character  the  bright  sum  total  of  all  the  blended  brilliancies 
that  compose  His  name.  When  that  light  is  welcomed 
and  adored  by  men,  they  are  said  to  "  give  glory  to  God  " 
and  this  doxology  is  at  once  a  prophecy  that  the  work- 
ing of  God's  power  on  His  redeemed  children  will  issue 
in  setting  forth  the  radiance  of  His  name  yet  more,  and  a 
prayer  that  it  may.  So  we  have  here  the  great  thought 
expressed  in  many  places  of  Scripture,  that  the  highest 
exhibition  of  the  Divine  character  for  the  reverence  and 
love — of  the  whole  universe,  shall  we  say  ? — lies  in  His 
work  on  Christian  souls,  and  the  effect  produced  thereby 
on  them.  God  takes  His  stand,  so  to  speak,  on  this 
great  fact  in  His  dealings,  and  will  have  His  creatures 
estimate  Him  by  it  He  reckons  it  His  highest  praise 
that  He  has  redeemed  men,  and  by  His  dwelling  in  them, 
fills  them  with  His  own  fulness.    And  this  chiefest  praise 


VI.]  ENDLESS  GLORY. 


141 


and  brightest  glory  accrues  to  Him  "  in  the  Church  in 
Christ  Jesus."  The  weakening  of  the  latter  words  into 
"  by  Christ  Jesus, "  as  in  the  English  version,  is  to  be 
regretted,  as  substituting  another  thought,  Scriptural  no 
doubt  and  precious,  for  the  precise  shade  of  meaning  ''n 
the  apostle's  mind  here.  As  has  been  well  said,  "  the  firsi 
words  denote  the  outward  province ;  the  second,  the  in- 
ward and  spiritual  sphere  in  which  God  was  to  be  praised" 
His  glory  is  to  shine  in  the  Church,  the  theatre  of  His 
power,  the  standing  demonstration  of  the  might  of  re- 
deeming love.  By  this  He  will  be  judged,  and  this  He 
will  point  to  if  any  ask  what  is  His  Divinest  work,  which 
bears  the  clearest  imprint  of  His  Divinest  sel£  His  gloiy 
is  to  be  set  forth  by  men  on  condition  that  they  arc  *'  in 
Christ,"  living  and  moving  in  HQm,  in  that  mysterious 
but  most  real  union  without  which  no  fruit  grows  on  the 
dead  branches,  nor  any  music  of  praise  breaks  from  dead 
lips. 

So,  then,  think  of  that  wonder  that  God  sets  His  glory 
in  His  dealings  with  us.  Amid  all  the  majesty  of  His 
works  and  all  the  blaze  of  His  creation,  this  is  what  He 
presents  as  the  highest  specimen  of  His  power — the 
Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  company  of  poor  men,  wearied 
and  conscious  of  many  evils,  who  follow  afar  off  the  foot- 
steps of  their  Lord,  How  dusty  and  toil-worn  the  little 
group  of  Christians  that  landed  at  Puteoli  must  have 
looked  as  they  toiled  along  the  Appian  Way  and  entered 
Rome  !  How  contemptuously  emperor  and  philosopher 
and  priest  and  patrician  would  have  curled  their  ipi, 
if  they  had  been  told  that  in  that  little  knot  of  Jewish 


143  MEASURELESS  POWER  AND         [SERM. 

prisoners  lay  a  power  before  which  theirs  would  cower  and 
fiually  fade  !  Even  so  is  it  stilL  Among  all  the  splend- 
ours of  this  great  universe,  and  the  mere  obtrusive  taw 
drin  esses  of  earth,  men  look  upon  us  Christians  as  poor 
enough ;  and  yet  it  is  to  His  redeemed  children  that  God 
has  entrusted  His  praise,  and  in  their  hands  He  has 
lodged  the  sacred  deposit  of  His  own  glory. 

Think  loftily  of  that  office  and  honour,  lowly  of  your- 
selves who  have  it  laid  upon  you  as  a  crown.  His 
honour  is  in  our  hands.  We  are  the  "  secretaries  of  His 
praise."  This  is  the  highest  function  that  any  creature 
can  discharge.  The  Rabbis  have  a  beautiful  bit  of 
teaching  buried  among  their  rubbish  about  angels.  They 
say  that  there  are  two  kinds  of  angels :  the  angels  of 
service  and  the  angels  of  praise,  of  which  two  orders  the 
latter  is  the  higher,  and  that  no  angel  in  it  praises  God 
twice,  but  having  once  lifted  up  his  voice  in  the  psalm  of 
heaven,  then  perishes  and  ceases  to  be.  He  has  per- 
fected his  being,  he  has  reached  the  height  of  his  great- 
ness, he  has  done  what  he  was  made  for,  let  him  fade 
away.  The  garb  of  legend  is  mean  enough,  but  the 
thought  it  embodies  is  that  ever  true  and  solemn  one, 
without  which  life  is  nought ;  "  Man's  chief  end  is  to 
glorify  God." 

And  we  can  only  fulfil  that  high  purpose  in  the 
measure  of  our  union  with  Christ.  "  In  Him"  abiding, 
we  manifest  God's  glory,  for  in  Him  abiding  we  receive 
God's  grace.  So  long  as  we  are  joined  to  Him,  we 
partake  of  His  life,  and  our  lives  become  music  and 
praise.     The  electric  current  flows  fi-om  Him  through  all 


VI.]  ENDLESS  GLORY.  143 

souls  that  are  "  in  Him,"  and  they  glow  with  fair  colours 
which  they  owe  to  their  contact  with  Jesus.  Interrupt 
the  communication,  and  all  is  darkness.  So,  brethren, 
let  us  seek  to  abide  in  Him,  severed  from  Whom  we  are 
nothing.  Then  shall  we  fulfil  the  purpose  of  His  love. 
Who  "  hath  shined  in.  our  hearts,"  that  we  might  give  to 
others  "  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ"    Notice,  lastly, 

IV.  The  Eternity  of  the  Work  and  of  the  Praise, 

As  in  the  former  clauses,  the  idea  of  the  transcendent 
greatness  of  the  power  of  God  was  expressed  by  aeon- 
mulated  synonyms,  so  here  the  kindred  thought  of  its 
eternity,  and  consequently  of  the  ceaseless  duration  of 
the  resulting  glory,  is  sought  to  be  set  forth  by  a  similar 
aggregation.  The  language  creaks  and  labours,  as  it 
were,  under  the  weight  of  the  great  conception.  Lite- 
rally rendered,  the  words  are — "  to  all  generations  of  the 
age  of  the  ages  " — a  remarkable  fusing  together  of  two 
expressions  for  unbounded  duration,  which  are  scarcely 
congruous.  We  can  understand  "  to  all  generations"  as 
expressive  of  duration  as  long  as  birth  and  death  shall 
last  We  can  nnderstand  "the  age  of  the  ages"  as 
pointing  to  that  endless  epoch  whose  moments  are 
"  ages ";  but  the  blending  of  the  two  is  but  an  uncon- 
scious acknowledgment  that  the  speech  of  earth,  saturated, 
as  it  is,  with  the  colouring  of  time,  bieaks  down  in  the 
attempt  to  express  the  thought  of  eternity.  Undoubtedly 
that  solemn  conception  is  the  one  intended  by  tlui 
strange  phrase. 


144  MEASURELESS  POWER.        [SBKM.  VL 

The  work  is  to  go  on  for  ever  and  ever,  and  with  it 
the  praise.  As  the  ages  which  are  the  beats  of  the 
pendulum  of  eternity  come  and  go,  more  and  more  of 
God's  power  will  flow  out  to  us,  and  more  and  more  of 
God's  glory  will  be  manifested  in  us.  It  must  be  so. 
For  God's  gift  is  infinite,  and  man's  capacity  of  reception 
is  indefinitely  capable  of  increase.  Therefore  eternity 
will  be  needful  in  order  that  redeemed  souls  may  absorb 
all  of  God  which  He  can  give  or  they  can  take.  The 
process  has  no  limits,  for  there  is  no  bound  to  be  set  to 
the  possible  approaches  of  the  human  spirit  to  the  Divine, 
and  none  to  the  exuberant  abundance  of  the  beauty  and 
glory  which  God  will  give  to  His  child.  Therefore  we 
shall  live  for  ever :  and  for  ever  show  forth  His  praise  and 
blaze  out  like  the  sun  with  the  irradiation  of  His  glory. 
We  cannot  die  till  we  have  exhausted  God.  Till  we 
comprehend  all  His  nature  in  our  thoughts,  and  reflect  all 
His  beauty  in  our  character ;  till  we  have  attained  all  the 
bliss  that  we  can  think,  and  received  all  the  good  that 
we  can  ask;  till  Hope  has  nothing  before  her  to  reach 
towards,  and  God  is  left  behind :  we  "  shall  not  die,  but 
live,  and  declare  the  works  of  the  Lord." 

Let  His  grace  work  on  you,  and  yield  yourselves  to 
Him,  that  His  fulness  may  fill  your  emptiness.  So  on 
earth  we  shall  be  deUvered  from  hopes  which  mock,  and 
wishes  that  are  never  fiilfilled.  So  in  heaven,  after 
"  ages  of  ages  "  of  growing  glory,  we  shall  have  to  say,  as 
each  new  wave  of  the  shoreless,  sunlit  sea  bears  us 
onward,  "  It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be  ' 


SERMON   VII. 

LOVE'S    TRIUMPH, 

Romans  Tiii  38,  39. 

NeiUier  daith,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powen^ 
nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth, 
uot  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  lore 
of  God. 

'X'HESE  rapturous  words  are  the  climax  of  the  apostle's 
long  demonstration  that  the  Gospel  is  the  revela- 
tion of  "  the  righteousness  of  God  from  faith  to  faith," 
and  is  thereby  "  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation."  What 
a  contrast  there  is  between  the  beginning  and  the  end  of 
his  argument  I  It  started  with  sombre,  sad  words  about 
man's  sinfulness  and  aversion  from  the  knowledge  of  God. 
It  closes  with  this  sunny  outburst  of  triumph ;  like  some 
stream  rising  among  black  and  barren  cliffs,  or  melancholy 
moorlands,  and  foaming  through  narrow  rifts  in  gloomy, 
ravines,  it  reaches  at  last  fertile  lands,  and  flows  calm,  the 
sunlight  dancing  on  its  broad  surface,  till  it  loses  itself  at 
last  in  the  unfathomable  ocean  of  the  love  of  God. 

We  are  told  that  the  Biblical  view  of  human  nature  is 
too  dark-  Well,  the  important  question  is  not  whether  it 
be  dark,  but  whether  it  be  true.     But,  apart  from  tlut| 

I. 


146  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH.  [serm, 

the  doctrine  of  Scripture  about  manVmoral  condition  is 
not  dark,  if  you  will  take  the  whole  of  it  together. 
Certainly,  a  part  of  it  is  very  dark.  The  picture,  for 
instance,  of  what  men  are,  painted  at  the  beginning  of 
this  Epistle,  is  black  like  a  canvas  of  Rembrandt's.  The 
Bible  is  "  Nature's  sternest  painter  but  her  best."  But 
to  get  the  whole  doctrine  of  Scripture  on  the  subject,  we 
have  to  take  its  confidence  as  to  what  men  may  become, 
as  well  as  its  portrait  of  what  they  are — and  then  who 
will  say  that  the  anthropology  of  Scripture  is  gloomy? 
To  me  it  seems  that  the  unrelieved  blackness  of  the  view 
which,  because  it  admits  no  fall,  can  imagine  no  rise, 
which  sees  in  all  man's  sins  and  sorrows  no  token  of  the 
dominion  of  an  alien  power,  and  has,  therefore,  no  reason 
to  believe  that  they  can  be  separated  from  humanity,  is 
the  true  "  Gospel  of  despair,"  and  that  the  system  which 
looks  steadily  at  all  the  misery  and  all  the  wickedness, 
and  calmly  proposes  to  cast  it  all  out,  is  really  the  only 
doctrine  of  human  nature  which  throws  any  gleam  of 
light  on  the  darkness.  Christianity  begins  indeed  with, 
"  There  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no,  not  one,"  but  it 
ends  with  this  victorious  paean  of  our  text 

And  what  a  majestic  close  it  is  to  the  great  words  that 
have  gone  before,  fitly  crowning  even  their  lofty  height  1 
One  might  well  shrink  from  presuming  to  take  such  words 
as  a  text,  with  any  idea  of  exhausting  or  of  enhancing 
them.  My  object  is  very  much  more  humble.  I  simply 
wish  to  bring  out  the  remarkable  order,  in  which  Paul 
here  marshals,  in  his  passionate,  rhetorical  amplification, 
all  the  enemies  that  can  be  supposed  to  seek  to  wrench 


ni.)  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH.  147 

us  away  from  the  love  of  God ;  and  triumphs  over  them 
all.  We  shall  best  measure  the  fulness  of  the  words  by 
simply  taking  these  clauses  as  they  stand  in  the  text 

I.  The  love  of  God  is  unaffected  hy  the  extremest 
changes  of  our  condition. 

The  apostle  begins  his  fervid  catalogue  of  vanquished 
foes  by  a  pair  of  opposites  which  might  seem  to  cover 
the  whole  ground — "  neither  death  nor  life."  What  more 
can  be  said?  Surely,  these  two  include  everything. 
From  one  point  of  view  they  do.  But  yet,  as  we  shall 
see,  there  is  more  to  be  said.  And  the  special  reason  for 
beginning  with  this  pair  of  possible  enemies  is  probably 
to  be  found  by  remembering  that  they  are  a  pair,  that 
between  them  they  do  cover  the  whole  ground,  and 
represent  the  extremes  of  change  which  can  befall  us. 
The  one  stands  at  the  one  pole,  the  other  at  the  other. 
If  these  two  stations,  so  far  from  each  other,  are  equally 
near  to  God's  love,  then  no  intermediate  point  can  be  far 
from  it.  If  the  most  violent  change  which  we  can  ex- 
perience does  not  in  the  least  matter  to  the  grasp  which 
the  love  of  God  has  on  us,  or  to  the  grasp  which  we 
may  have  on  it,  then  no  less  violent  a  change  can  be  of 
any  consequence.  It  is  the  same  thought  in  a  somewhat 
modified  form,  as  we  find  m  another  word  of  Paul's 
"  Whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord ;  and  whether 
we  die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord."  Our  subordination  to 
Him  is  the  same,  and  our  consecration  should  be  the 
same  in  all  varieties  of  condition,  even  in  that  greatest 
of  all  variations.     His  love  to  us  makes  no  account  of 

L  2 


148  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  [serm 

that  mightiest  of  changes.     How  should  it  be  affected  by 
slighter  ones  ? 

The  distance  of  a  star  is  measured  by  the  apparent 
change  in  its  position,  as  seen  from  different  points  of  the 
earth's  surface  or  orbit  But  this  great  Light  stands 
steadfast  in  our  heaven,  nor  moves  a  hair's  breadth,  nor 
pours  a  feebler  ray  on  us,  whether  we  look  up  to  it  from 
the  midsummer  day  of  busy  life,  or  from  the  midwinter 
of  death.  These  opposites  are  parted  by  a  distance  to 
which  the  millions  of  miles  of  the  world's  path  among  the 
stars  are  but  a  point,  and  yet  the  love  of  God  streams 
down  on  them  alike. 

Of  course,  the  confidence  of  immortality  is  implied  m 
this  thought  Death  does  not,  in  the  slightest  degree, 
affect  the  essential  vitality  of  the  soul ;  so  it  does  not,  in 
the  slightest  degree,  affect  the  outflow  of  God's  love  to 
that  souL  It  is  a  change  of  condition  and  circumstance, 
and  no  more.  He  does  not  lose  us  in  the  dust  of  death. 
The  withered  leaves  on  the  pathway  are  trampled  into 
mud,  and  indistinguishable  to  human  eyes ;  but  He  sees 
them  even  as  when  they  hung  green  and  sunlit  on  the 
mystic  tree  of  life. 

How  beautifully  this  thought  contrasts  with  the  saddest 
aspect  of  the  power  of  death  in  our  human  experience  ! 
He  is  Death  the  Separater,  who  unclasps  our  hands  from 
the  closest,  dearest  grasp,  and  divides  asunder  joints  and 
marrow,  and  parts  soul  and  body,  and  withdraws  us  from 
all  our  habitude  and  associations  and  occupations,  and 
loosens  every  bond  of  society  and  concord,  and  hales  us 
away  into  a  lonely  land.     But  there  is  one  bond  which 


ni.]  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH.  149 

his  "  abhorred  shears  "  cannot  cut  Their  edge  is  turned 
on  //.  One  Hand  holds  us  in  a  grasp  which  the  fleshless 
fingers  of  Death  in  vain  strive  to  loosen.  The  separator 
becomes  the  uniter ;  he  rends  us  apart  from  the  world 
that  he  may  "  bring  us  to  God."  The  love  filtered  by 
drops  on  us  in  life  is  poured  upon  us  in  a  flood  in  death  ; 
"  for  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death  nor  life  shall  be 
able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God." 

IL  The  love  of  God  is  undiverUd  from  us  by  any  piAer 

order  of  beings, 

"  Nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,**  says  Paul 
Here  we  pass  from  conditions  affecting  ourselves  to  living 
beings  beyond  ourselves.  Now,  it  is  important  for  under- 
standing the  precise  thought  of  the  apostle  to  observe  that 
this  expression,  when  used  without  any  qualifying  adjec- 
tive, seems  uniformly  to  mean  good  angels,  the  hierarchy 
of  blessed  spirits  before  the  throne.  So  that  there  is  no 
reference  to  "  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places  **  striving 
to  draw  men  away  from  God.  The  supposition  which 
the  apostle  makes  is,  indeed,  an  impossible  one,  that 
these  ministering  spirits,  who  are  sent  forth  to  minister 
to  them  who  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation,  should  so  forget 
their  mission  and  contradict  their  nature  as  to  seek  to  bar 
us  out  from  the  love  which  it  is  their  chiefest  joy  to  bring 
to  us.  He  knows  it  to  be  an  impossible  supposition,  and 
its  very  impossibility  gives  energy  to  his  conclusion,  just 
as  when  in  the  same  fashion  he  makes  the  other  equally 
impossible  supposition    about    an  angel    from    heaven 


I50  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  [serm. 

preaching    another    gospel    than    that   which   he    had 
preached  to  them. 

So  we  may  turn  the  general  thought  of  this  second 
category  of  impotent  efforts  in  two  different  ways,  and 
suggest,  first,  that  it  implies  the  utter  powerlessness  of 
any  third  party  in  regard  to  the  relations  between  our 
souls  and  God. 

We  alone  have  to  do  with  Him  alone.  The  awful  fact 
of  individuality,  that  solemn  mystery  of  our  personal 
Being,  has  its  most  blessed  or  its  most  dread  manifes- 
tation in  our  relation  to  God.  There  no  other  Being  has 
any  power.  Counsel  and  stimulus,  suggestion  or  tempt- 
ation, instruction  or  lies,  which  may  tend  to  lead  us 
nearer  to  Him  or  away  from  Him,  they  may  indeed  give 
us  ;  but  after  they  have  done  their  best  or  their  worst,  all 
depends  on  the  personal  act  of  our  own  innermost  being. 
Man  nor  angel  can  affect  that,  but  from  without  The 
old  mystics  called  prayer  "  the  flight  of  the  lonely  soul  to 
the  only  God."  It  is  the  name  for  all  religion.  These 
two,  God  and  the  soul,  have  to  "transact,"  as  our 
Puritan  forefathers  used  to  say,  as  if  there  were  no 
other  beings  in  the  universe  but  only  they  two.  Angels 
and  principalities  and  powers  may  stand  beholding 
with  sympathetic  joy;  they  may  minister  blessing  and' 
guardianship  in  many  ways;  but  the  decisive  act  of 
union  between  God  and  the  soul  they  can  neither  effect 
nor  prevent 

And  as  for  them,  so  for  men  around  us  ;  the  limits  of 
their  power  to  harm  us  are  soon  set  They  may  shut  us 
out  from  human  love  by  calumnies,  and  dig  deep  gulfs  of 


VII.]  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  151 

alienation  between  us  and  dear  ones ;  they  may  hurt  and 
annoy  us  in  a  thousand  ways  with  slanderous  tongues, 
and  arrows  dipped  in  poisonous  hatred.  But  one  thing 
they  cannot  do.  They  may  build  a  wall  around  us,  and 
imprison  us  from  many  a  joy  and  many  a  fair  prospect. 
But  they  cannot  put  a  roof  on  it  to  keep  out  the  sweet 
influences  from  above,  or  hinder  us  from  looking  up  to 
the  heavens.  Nobody  can  come  between  us  and  God 
but  ourselves. 

Or,  we  may  turn  this  general  thought  in  another 
direction,  and  say,  These  blessed  spirits  around  the  throne 
do  not  absorb  and  intercept  His  love.  They  gather 
about  its  steps  in  their "  solemn  troops  and  sweet 
societies ;"  but  close  as  are  their  ranks,  and  innumerable 
as  is  their  multitude,  they  do  not  prevent  that  love  from 
passing  beyond  them  to  us  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd. 
The  planet  nearest  the  sun  is  drenched  and  saturated  with 
fiery  brightness,  but  the  rays  from  the  centre  of  hfe  pass 
on  to  each  of  the  sister  spheres  in  its  turn,  and  travel 
away  outwards  to  where  the  remotest  of  them  all  rolls  in 
its  far-ofif  orbit,  unknown  for  millenniums  to  dwellers  closer 
to  the  sun,  but  through  all  the  ages  visited  by  warmth  and 
light  according  to  its  needs.  Like  that  poor  sickly 
woman  who  could  lay  her  wasted  fingers  on  the  hem  of 
Christ's  garment,  notwithstanding  the  thronging  multitude, 
we  can  reach  our  hands  through  all  the  crowd,  or  rather 
He  reaches  His  strong  hand  to  us  and  heals  and  blesses  us. 
All  the  guests  are  fed  full  at  that  great  table.  One's  gain 
i&  not  another's  loss.  The  multitudes  sit  on  the  green 
grass,  and  the  last  man  of  the  last  fifty  gets  as  much  as 


152  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  [seril 

the  first :  "  They  did  all  eat,  and  were  filled  " ;  and  more 
remains  than  fed  them  all 

So  all  beings  are  "  nourished  from  the  King's  country," 
and  none  jostle  others  out  of  their  share.  This  healing 
fountain  is  not  exhausted  of  its  curative  power  by  the 
early  comers.  "  I  will  give  unto  this  last,  even  as  unto 
thee."  "  Nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  shall 
be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God." 

III.  The  love  of  God  is  raised  above  the  power  of  Time, 
"Nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,"  is  the 
apostle's  next  class  of  powers  impotent  to  disunite  us 
from  the  love  of  God.  The  rhythmical  arrangement  of 
the  text  deserves  to  be  noticed,  as  bearing  not  only  on 
its  music  and  rhetorical  flow,  but  as  affecting  its  force. 
We  had  first  a  pair  of  opposites,  and  then  a  triplet ;  "  death 
and  life :  angels,  principalities,  and  powers."  We  have 
again  a  pair  of  opposites;  "things  present,  things  to 
come,"  again  followed  by  a  triplet,  "  height  nor  depth, 
nor  any  other  creature."  The  effect  of  this  is  to  divide 
the  whole  into  two,  and  to  throw  the  first  and  second 
classes  more  closely  together,  as  also  the  third  and  fourth. 
Time  and  Space,  these  two  mysterious  ideas,  which  work 
so  fatally  on  all  human  love,  art  powerless  here. 

The  great  Revelation  of  God,  on  which  the  whole  of 
Judaism  was  built,  was  that  made  to  Moses  of  the  name 
"  I  Am  that  I  Am."  And  parallel  to  the  verbal  revela- 
tion was  that  symbol  of  the  Bush,  burning  and  uncon- 
sumed,  which  is  so  often  misunderstood.  It  appears 
wholly  contrary  to  the  usage  of  Scriptural  visions,  which 


TIL]  LOVERS  TRIUMPH,  153 

are  ever  wont  to  express  in  material  form  the  same  truth 
which  accompanies  them  in  words,  that  the  meaning  of 
that  vision  should  be,  as  it  frequently  taken  as  being,  the 
continuance  of  Israel,  unharmed  by  the  fiery  furnace  of 
persecution.  Not  the  continuance  of  Israel,  but  the 
eternity  of  Israel's  God  is  the  teaching  of  that  flaming 
wonder.  The  burning  Bush  and  the  Name  of  the  Lord 
proclaimed  the  same  great  truth  of  self-derived,  self-deter- 
mined, timeless,  undecaying  Being.  And  what  better  sym- 
bol than  the  bush  burning,  and  yet  not  burning  out,  could 
be  found  of  that  God  in  Whose  life  there  is  no  tendency 
to  death,  Whose  work  digs  no  pit  of  weariness  into  whidi 
it  falls.  Who  gives  and  is  none  the  poorer,  Who  fears  no 
exhaustion  in  His  spending,  no  extinction  in  His  continual 
shining  ? 

And  this  eternity  of  Being  is  no  mere  metaphysical 
abstraction.  It  is  eternity  of  love,  for  God  is  luv  e.  That 
great  stream,  the  pouring  out  of  His  own  very  inmost 
Being,  knows  no  pause,  nor  does  the  deep  fountain  from 
which  it  flows  ever  sink  one  hair's  breadth  in  its  pure  basin. 

We  know  of  earthly  loves  which  cannot  die.  They 
have  entered  so  deeply  into  the  very  fabric  of  the  soul, 
that  like  some  cloth  dyed  in  grain,  as  long  as  two  threads 
hold  together  they  will  retain  the  tint.  We  have  to 
thank  God  for  such  instances  of  love  stronger  than  death, 
which  make  it  easier  for  us  to  believe  in  the  unchanging 
duration  of  His.  But  we  know,  too,  of  love  that  can 
change,  and  we  know  that  all  love  must  part  Few  of  us 
have  reached  middle  life,  who  do  not,  looking  back,  see 
our  track  strewed  with  the  gaunt  skeletons  of  dead  friend- 


154  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  [SERM. 

ships,  and  dotted  with  "  oaks  of  weeping,"  waving  green 
and  mournful  over  graves,  and  saddened  by  footprints 
striking  away  from  the  line  of  march,  and  leaving  ui  the 
more  solitary  for  their  departure. 

How  blessed  then  to  know  of  a  love  which  cannot 
change  or  die !  The  past,  the  present  and  the  future 
are  all  the  same  to  Him,  to  Whom  "  a  thousand  years," 
that  can  corrode  so  much  of  earthly  love,  are  in  their 
power  to  change  "  as  one  day,"  and  "  one  day,"  which  can 
hold  so  few  of  the  expressions  of  our  love,  may  be  "  as  a 
thousand  years  "  in  the  multitude  and  richness  of  the  gifts 
which  it  can  be  expanded  to  contain.  The  whole  of 
what  He  has  been  to  any  past.  He  is  to  us  to-day.  "  The 
God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge."  All  these  old-world  stories 
of  loving  care  and  guidance  may  be  repeated  in  our  lives. 

So  we  may  bring  the  blessedness  of  all  the  past  into 
the  present,  and  calmly  face  the  misty  future,  sure  that 
it  cannot  rob  us  of  His  love. 

"  Do  whate'er  thou  wOt,  swift-footed  Time, 
To  this  wide  world  and  all  her  fading  sweets," 

it  matters  not,  if  only  our  hearts  are  stayed  on  His  love, 
which  neither  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  can  alter 
or  /emove.  Looking  on  all  the  flow  of  ceaseless  change, 
the  waste  and  fading,  the  alienation  and  cooling,  the  de- 
crepitude and  decay  of  earthly  aflfection,  we  can  lift  up 
with  gladness,  heightened  by  the  contrast,  the  triumphant 
song  of  the  ancient  Church  :  "  Oh,  give  thanks  unto  the 
Lord :  for  He  is  good :  because  His  mercy  mdureth  fof 


VII.]  LOVE*S  TRIUMPH.  155 


rV.  The  love  of  God  '\%  present  everywhere. 

The  apostle  ends  his  catalogue  with  a  singular  trio  of 
antagonists ;  "  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  crea- 
ture," as  if  he  had  got  impatient  of  the  enumeration  of 
impotencies,  and  having  named  the  outside  boundaries  in 
space  of  the  created  universe,  flings,  as  it  were,  with  one 
rapid  toss,  into  that  large  room  the  whole  that  it  can 
contain,  and  triumphs  over  it  all 

Aa  the  former  clause  proclaimed  the  powerlessness  of 
Time,  so  this  proclaims  the  powerlessness  of  that  other 
great  mystery  of  creatural  life  which  we  call  Space. 
Height  or  depth,  it  matters  not.  That  diffusive  love 
diffuses  itself  equally  in  all  directions.  Up  or  down,  it 
is  all  the  same.  The  distance  from  the  centre  is  equal  to 
Zenith  or  to  Nadir. 

Here,  we  have  the  same  process  applied  to  that  idea  of 
Omnipresence  as  was  applied  in  the  former  clause  to 
the  idea  of  Eternity.  That  thought,  so  hard  to  grasp 
with  vividness,  and  not  altogether  a  glad  one  to  a  sinful 
soul,  is  all  softened  and  glorified,  as  some  solemn  Alpine 
cliff  of  bare  rock  is  when  the  tender  morning  light  glows 
on  it,  when  it  is  thought  of  as  the  Omnipresence  of  Love. 
**  Thou,  God,  seest  me,"  may  be  a  stem  word,  if  the  God 
Who  sees  be  but  a  mighty  Maker  or  a  righteous  Judge. 
As  reasonably  might  we  expect  a  prisoner  in  his  solitary 
cell  to  be  glad  when  he  thinks  that  the  jailer's  eye  is  on 
him  from  some  unseen  spy -hole  in  the  wall,  as  expect 
any  thought  of  God  but  one  to  make  a  man  read  that 
grand  one  hundred  and  thirty-ninth  Psalm  with  jojr :  *'  If 


H6  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  [serm. 

I  ascend  into  heaven,  Thou  art  there  ;  if  I  make  my  bed 
in  Sheol,  behold,  Thou  art  there."  So  may  a  man  say 
shudderingly  to  himself,  and  tremble  as  he  asks  in  vain, 
"  Whither  shall  I  flee  from  Thy  Presence?"  But  how 
different  it  all  is  when  we  can  cast  over  the  marble  white- 
ness of  that  solemn  thought  the  warm  hue  of  life,  and 
change  the  form  of  our  words  into  this  of  our  text :  "  Nor 
height,  nor  depth,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God." 

In  that  great  ocean  of  the  Divine  love  we  live  and 
move  and  have  our  being,  floating  in  it  like  some  sea 
flower  which  spreads  its  filmy  beauty  and  waves  its  long 
tresses  in  the  depths  of  mid-ocean.  The  sound  of  its 
waters  is  ever  in  our  ears,  and  above,  beneath,  around 
us,  its  mighty  currents  run  evermore.  We  need  not 
cower  before  the  fixed  gaze  of  some  stony  god,  looking 
on  us  unmoved  like  those  Egyptian  deities  that  sit  pitiless 
with  idle  hands  on  their  laps,  and  wide-open  Udless  eyes 
gazing  out  across  the  sands.  We  need  not  fear  the 
Omnipresence  of  Love,  nor  the  Omniscience  which 
knows  us  altogether,  and  loves  us  even  as  it  knows. 
Rather  we  shall  be  glad  that  we  are  ever  in  His 
Presence,  and  desire,  as  the  height  of  all  felicity  and  the 
power  for  all  goodness,  to  walk  all  the  day  long  in  the 
light  of  His  countenance,  till  the  day  come  when  we 
shall  receive  the  crown  of  our  perfecting  in  that  we  shall 
be  "  ever  with  the  Lord." 

The  recognition  of  this  triumphant  sovereignty  of  lov« 
over  all  these  real  and  supposed  antagonists  makes  us, 
too,  lords  over  them,  and  delivers  us  from  the  tempta- 


TIL]  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  157 

tions  which  some  of  them  present  us  to  separate  oiir- 
selves  from  the  love  of  God.  They  all  become  our 
servants  and  helpers,  uniting  us  to  that  love.  So  we  are 
set  free  from  the  dread  of  death  and  from  the  distrac- 
tions incident  to  life.  So  we  are  delivered  from  super- 
stitious dread  of  an  unseen  world,  and  from  craven  fear 
of  men.  So  we  are  emancipated  from  absorption  in  the 
present  and  from  carefid  thought  for  the  future.  So  we 
are  at  home  everywhere,  and  every  corner  of  the  universe 
is  to  us  one  of  the  many  mansions  of  our  Father's  house. 
"All  things  are  yours,  .  .  .  and  ye  are  Chrisfs;  and 
Christ  is  God's." 

I  do  not  forget  the  closing  words  of  this  great  text  I 
have  not  ventured  to  include  them  in  our  present 
subject,  because  they  would  have  introduced  another 
wide  region  of  thought  to  be  laid  down  on  our  already 
too  narrow  canvas. 

But  remember,  I  beseech  you,  that  this  love  of  God  is 
explained  by  our  apostle  to  be  "  in  Christ  Jesus  oiu" 
Lord."  Love  illimitable,  all-pervasive,  eternal;  yes,  but 
a  love  which  has  a  channel  and  a  course ;  love  which 
has  a  method  and  a  process  by  which  it  pours  itself  over 
the  world.  It  is  not,  as  some  representations  would 
make  it,  a  vague,  nebulous  light  diffused  through  space 
as  in  a  chaotic,  half-made  universe,  but  all  gathered  in 
that  great  Light  which  rules  the  day — even  in  Him  Who 
said  I  "  I  am  the  Light  of  the  World."  In  Christ  the 
love  of  God  is  all  centred  and  embodied,  that  it  may  be 
imparted  to  all  sinful  and  hungry  hearts,  even  as  burning 
coals  are  gathered  on  a  hearth  that  they  may  give  warmth 


IS8  LOVE'S  TRIUMPH,  [serm.  VIL 

to  all  that  arc  in  the  house.  "  God  so  loved  the  world" 
-  -not  merely  so  muchy  but  in  such  a  fashion — "  that  ** — 
that  what  ?  Many  people  would  leap  at  once  from  the 
first  to  the  last  clause  of  the  verse,  and  regard  eternal 
life  for  all  and  sundry  as  the  only  adequate  expression  of 
the  universal  love  of  God.  Not  so  does  Christ  speak. 
Between  that  universal  love  and  its  ultimate  purpose  and 
desire  for  every  man  He  inserts  two  conditions,  one  on 
God's  part,  one  on  man's.  God's  love  reaches  its  end, 
namely,  the  bestowal  of  eternal  life,  by  means  of  a  Divine 
act  and  a  human  response.  "  God  so  loved  the  world, 
that  He  gave  His  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever 
bdieveth  in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life."  So  all  the  universal  love  of  God  for  you  and  me 
and  for  all  our  brethren  is  "  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord," 
and  faith  in  Him  unites  us  to  it  by  bonds  which  no  fo^ 
can  break,  no  shock  of  change  can  snap,  no  time  can 
rot,  no  distance  can  stretch  to  breaking.  "  For  I  am 
persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor 
principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things 
to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creatxire, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which 
if  ui  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 


SERMON  VIIL 

mm  GRAYS  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN  AND  TH?  GRAVl 

OF  THE  LIVING  JESUS. 

St.  Matthew  xW.  is. 

Aad  John*!  diidplet  came,  and  took  up  the  bodj,  and  bviltd 
it,  and  went  and  told  Jesus. 

St.  Matthew  xxriii  8. 

And  they  departed  quickly  from  the  sepulchre  with 
fear  and  great  joy. 

'T*HERE  is  a  remarkable  parallel  and  still  more  re- 
markable  contrast  between  these  two  groups  of 
disciples  at  the  graves  of  their  respective  masters.  John 
the  Baptist's  followers  venture  into  the  very  jaws  of  the 
lion  to  rescue  the  headless  corse  of  their  martyred  teacher 
from  a  prison  grave.  They  bear  it  away  and  lay  it 
reverently  in  its  unknown  sepulchre,  and  when  they  have 
done  these  last  offices  of  love  they  feel  that  all  is  over. 
They  have  no  longer  a  centre,  and  they  disintegrate. 
There  was  nothing  to  hold  them  together  any  more. 
The  shepherd  had  been  smitten,  and  the  flock  were 
icattered.  As  a  "  school "  or  a  distinct  community  they 
rease  to  be.  and  are  mostly  absorbed  into  the  ranks  of 


i6o        THE  GRAVE  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN    [serm. 

Christ's  followers.  That  sorrowful  little  company  that 
turned  from  John's  grave,  perhaps  amidst  the  grim  rocks 
of  Moab,  perhaps  in  his  native  city  amongst  the  hills  of 
Judah,  parted,  then,  to  meet  no  more,  and  to  bear  away 
only  a  common  sorrow  that  time  would  comfort,  and  a 
common  memory  that  time  would  dim. 

The  other  group  laid  their  martyred  Master  in  his 
grave  with  as  tender  hands  and  as  little  hope  as  did 
John's  disciples.  The  bond  that  held  them  together  was 
gone  too,  and  the  disintegrating  process  began  at  once. 
We  see  them  breaking  up  into  little  knots,  and  soon  they, 
too,  will  be  scattered.  The  women  come  to  the  grave  to 
perform  the  woman's  office  of  anointing,  and  they  are  left 
to  go  alone.  Other  slight  hints  are  given  which  show 
how  much  the  ties  of  companionship  had  been  relaxed, 
even  m  a  day,  and  how  certainly  and  quickly  they  would 
have  &llen  asunder.  But  all  at  once  a  new  element 
comes  in,  all  is  changed.  The  earliest  visitors  to  the 
sepulchre  leave  it,  not  with  the  lingering  sorrow  of  those 
who  have  no  more  that  they  can  do,  but  with  the  quick 
buoyant  step  of  people  charged  with  great  and  glad 
tidings.  They  come  to  it  wrapped  in  grief— they  leave 
it  with  great  joy.  They  come  to  it,  feeling  that  all  wag 
over,  and  their  union  with  the  rest  who  had  loved  Him 
was  little  more  than  a  remembrance.  They  go  away 
feeHng  that  they  are  bound  together  more  closely  than 
ever. 

The  grave  of  John  was  the  end  of  a  "  school  "  The 
grave  of  Jesus  was  the  beginning  of  a  Church.  Why  ? 
The    only  answer   is  the  message  which  the  womta 


nil.]  AND  THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  LIVING  JESUS,  161 

•-./ought  back  from  the  empty  sepulchre  on  that  Easter 
iay :  "  The  Lord  b  risen."  The  whole  history  of  the 
Christian  Church,  and  even  its  very  existence,  is  unintel- 
ligible, except  on  the  supposition  of  the  resurrection. 
But  for  that,  the  fate  of  John's  disciples  would  have  been 
the  fate  of  Christ's — they  would  have  melted  away  into 
the  mass  of  the  nation,  and  at  most  there  would  have 
peen  one  more  petty  Galilean  sect,  that  would  have  lived 
on  for  a  generation  and  died  out  when  the  last  of  his 
fsompanions  died. 

So  from  these  two  contrasted  groups  we  may  fairly 
gather  some  thoughts  as  to  the  Resurrection  of  Christ,  as 
Attested  by  the  very  existence  of  a  Christian  Church, 
And  as  to  the  joy  of  that  resurrection. 

L  Now  the  first  point  to  be  considered  is,  That  the 
conduct  of  Christ's  disciples  after  His  death  was  exactly 
^e  opposite  of  what  might  have  been  expected. 

They  held  together.  The  natural  thing  for  them  to  do 
would  have  been  to  disband ;  for  the  one  bond  was  gone ; 
and  if  they  had  acted  according  to  the  ordinary  laws  of 
human  conduct  they  would  have  said  to  themselves,  Let 
us  go  back  to  our  fishing-boats  and  our  tax-gathering,  and 
seek  safety  in  separation,  and  nurse  our  sorrow  apart 
A  few  lingering  days  might  have  been  given  to  weep  to- 
gether at  His  grave,  and  to  assuage  the  first  bitterness 
of  grief  and  disappointment ;  but  when  these  were  over, 
nothiMg  could  have  prevented  Christianity  and  the  Church 
from  being  buried  in  the  same  sepulchre  as  Jesus.  Ai 
certainly  as  the  stopping  up  of  the  fountain  would  emp^ 

II 


i6a        THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN     [serm. 

the  river's  bed,  so  surely  would  Christ's  death  have 
scattered  His  disciples.  And  that  strange  fact,  that  it  did 
not  scatter  them,  needs  to  be  looked  well  into  and  fairly 
accounted  for  in  some  plausible  manner.  The  end  cA 
John's  school  gives  a  parallel  which  brings  the  singularity 
of  the  fact  into  stronger  relief ;  and  looking  at  these  two 
groups  as  they  stand  before  ui  in  these  two  texts,  the 
question  is  irresistibly  suggested,  Why  did  not  the  one 
fall  away  into  its  separate  elements,  as  the  other  did? 
The  keystone  of  the  arch  was  in  both  cases  withdrawn 
— ^why  did  the  one  structure  topple  into  ruin  while  the 
other  stood  firm  ? 

Not  only  did  the  disciples  of  Christ  keep  united,  but 
their  conceptions  of  Jesus  underwent  a  remarkable 
change,  on  His  death.  We  might  have  expected  indeed 
that,  when  memory  began  to  work,  and  the  disturbing 
influence  of  daily  association  was  withdrawn,  the  same 
idealising  process  would  have  begun  on  their  image  of 
Him,  which  reveals  and  ennobles  the  characters  of  our 
dear  ones  who  have  gone  away  from  us.  Most  men  have 
to  die  before  their  true  beauty  is  discerned.  But  no 
process  of  that  sort  will  suffice  to  account  for  the  change 
and  heightening  of  the  disciples'  thoughts  about  their 
dead  Lord.  It  was  not  merely  that,  as  they  remembered, 
they  said.  Did  not  our  hearts  bum  within  us  by  the  way 
while  He  talked  with  us  ? — ^but  that  His  death  wrought 
exactly  the  opposite  eflfect  from  what  it  might  have  been 
expected  to  do.  It  ought  to  have  ended  their  hope  that 
He  was  the  Messiah,  and  we  know  that  within  forty-eight 
lM>uri  it  was  beginnmg  to  do  fo,  as  we  learn  from  tk« 


viii]  AND  THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  LIVING  JESUS,  163 

plaintive  words  of  disappointed  and  fading  hope ;  "  We 
trusted  that  it  had  been  He  which  should  have  redeemed 
Israel"  If,  so  early,  the  cold  conviction  was  stealing 
over  their  hearts  that  their  dearest  expectation  was 
proved  by  His  death  to  have  been  a  dream,  what  could 
have  prevented  its  entire  dominion  over  them,  as  the  days 
grew  into  months  and  years  ?  But  somehow  or  other  that 
process  was  arrested,  and  the  opposite  one  set  in.  The 
death  that  should  have  shattered  Messianic  dreams  con- 
firmed them.  The  death  that  should  have  cast  a  deeper 
shadow  of  incomprehensibleness  over  His  strange  and 
lofty  claims  poured  a  new  light  upon  them,  which  made 
them  all  plain  and  clear.  The  very  parts  of  His  teaching 
which  His  death  would  have  made  those  who  loved  Him 
wish  to  forget,  became  the  centre  of  His  followers'  faith. 
His  cross  became  His  throne.  Whilst  He  lived  with 
them  they  knew  not  what  He  said  in  His  deepest  words, 
but,  by  a  strange  paradox,  His  death  convinced  them  that 
He  was  the  Son  of  God,  and  that  that  which  they  had 
seen  with  their  eyes,  and  their  hands  hid  handled,  was 
the  Eternal  Life.  The  cross  alone  could  never  have 
done  that  Something  else  there  must  have  been,  if  the 
men  were  sane,  to  account  for  this  paradox. 

Nor  is  this  alL  Another  equally  unlikely  sequel  of  the 
death  of  Jesus  is  the  unmistakable  moral  transformation 
effected  on  the  disciples.  Timorous  and  tremulous  before, 
something  or  other  touched  them  into  altogether  new  bold- 
ness and  self-possession.  Dependent  on  His  presence 
before,  and  helpless  >%  hen  He  was  away  from  them  for  an 
hour,  the>  become  all  at  once  strong  and  calm ;  they  stand 

M  a 


i64        THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN    [serm. 

before  the  fury  of  a  Jewish  mob  and  the  threatenings  of 
the  Sanhedrim,  unmoved  and  victorious.  And  these  brave 
confessors  and  saintly  heroes  are  the  men  who,  a  few 
weeks  before,  had  been  petulant,  self-willed,  jealous, 
cowardly.  What  had  lifted  them  suddenly  so  far  above 
themselves  ?  Their  Master's  death  ?  That  would  more 
naturally  have  taken  any  heart  or  courage  out  of  them, 
and  left  them  indeed  as  sheep  in  the  midst  of  wolves. 
Why,  then,  do  they  thus  strangely  blaze  up  into  grandeur 
and  heroism  ?  Can  any  reasonable  account  be  given  of 
these  paradoxes  ?  Surely  it  is  not  too  much  to  ask  of 
people  who  profess  to  explain  Christianity  on  naturalistic 
principles,  that  they  shall  make  the  process  clear  to  us 
by  which,  Christ  being  dead  and  buried,  His  disciples 
were  kept  together,  learned  to  think  more  loftily  of  Him 
and  sprang  at  once  to  a  new  grandeur  of  character. 
Why  did  not  they  do  as  John's  disciples  did,  and  dis- 
appear ?  Why  was  not  the  stream  lost  in  the  sand,  when 
the  head-waters  were  cut  off! 

IL  Notice  then,  next,  that  the  disciples'  immediate 
belief  in  the  Resurrection  furnishes  a  reasonable,  and  the 
only  reasonable,  explanation  of  the  facts.  There  is  no 
better  historical  evidence  of  a  fact  than  the  existence 
of  an  institution  built  upon  it,  and  coeval  with  it  The 
Christian  Church  is  such  evidence  for  the  fact  of  the 
resurrection ;  or,  to  put  the  conclusion  in  the  most  mod- 
erate fashion,  for  the  belief  in  the  resurrection.  For,  as 
we  have  shown,  the  natural  effect  of  our  Lord's  death 
would  have  been  to  shatter  the  whole  fabric :  and  if  that 


yiil.]  AND  THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  LIVING  JESUS,  165 

effect  were  not  produced,  the  only  reasonable  account  of 
the  force  that  hindered  it  is,  that  His  followers  believed 
that  He  rose  again.  Since  that  was  their  faith,  one  can 
understand  how  they  were  banded  more  closely  together 
than  ever.  One  can  understand  how  their  eyes  were 
opened  to  know  Him  who  was  "  declared  to  be  the  Son  of 
God  with  power  by  the  resurrection  from  the  dead." 
One  can  understand  how,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  these  new 
thoughts  of  their  Lord,  and  in  the  strength  of  His  victory 
over  death,  they  put  aside  their  old  fears  and  littlenesses 
and  clothed  themselves  in  armour  of  light  "  The  Lord 
is  risen  indeed  "  was  the  belief  which  made  the  continuous 
existence  of  the  Church  possible.  Any  other  explanation 
of  that  great  outstanding  fact  is  lame  and  hopelessly  in- 
sufficient 

We  know  that  that  belief  was  the  belief  of  the  early 
Church.  Even  if  one  waived  all  reference  to  the  gospels 
we  have  the  means  of  demonstrating  that  in  Paul's  undis- 
puted epistles.  Nobody  has  questioned  that  he  wrote 
the  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians.  The  date  most 
generally  assumed  to  that  letter  brings  it  within  about 
five-and-twenty  years  of  the  crucifixion.  In  that  letter, 
in  addition  to  a  multitude  of  incidental  references  to  the 
Lord  as  risen,  we  have  the  great  passage  in  the  fifteenth 
chapter,  where  the  apostle  not  only  declares  that  the 
Resurrection  was  one  of  the  two  facts  which  made  his 
"  gospel,"  but  solemnly  enumerates  the  witnesses  of  the 
risen  Lord,  and  alleges  that  this  gospel  of  the  resurrection 
was  common  to  him  and  to  all  the  Church.  He  tells  us 
Df  Christ's  appearance  to  himself  at  his  conversion,  which 


i66        THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN     [seru. 

must  have  taken  place  within  six  or  seven  years  of  the 
crucifixion,  and  assures  us  that  at  that  early  period  he 
found  the  whole  Church  believing  and  preaching  Christ's 
resurrection.  Their  belief  rested  on  their  alleged  inter- 
course with  Him  a  few  days  after  his  death,  and  it  is  in- 
conceivable that  within  so  short  a  period  such  a  belief 
should  have  sprung  up  and  been  universally  received  if 
it  had  not  begun  when  and  as  they  said  it  did. 

But  we  are  not  left  even  to  inferences  of  this  kind  to 
ghow  that  from  the  beginning  the  Church  witnessed  to 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus.  Its  own  existence  is  the  great 
witness  to  its  faith.  And  it  is  important  to  observe  that, 
even  if  we  had  not  the  documentary  evidence  of  the 
Pauline  epistles  as  the  earliest  records  of  the  gospels,  and 
of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  we  should  still  have  sufficient 
proof  that  the  belief  in  the  resurrection  is  as  old  as  the 
Church.  For  the  continuance  of  the  Church  cannot  be 
explained  without  it  If  that  faith  had  not  dawned  on 
their  slow  sad  hearts  on  that  Easter  morning,  a  few  weeks 
would  have  seen  them  scattered  :  and  if  once  they  had 
been  scattered,  as  they  inevitably  would  have  been,  no 
power  could  have  reunited  them,  any  more  than  a 
diamond  once  shattered  can  be  pieced  together  again. 
There  would  have  been  no  motive  and  no  actors  to  frame 
a  itory  of  resurrection  when  once  the  little  company  had 
melted  away.  The  existence  of  the  Church  depended  on 
their  belief  that  the  Lord  was  risen.  In  the  nature  of 
the  case  that  belief  must  have  followed  immediately  on 
his  death.  It,  and  it  only,  reasonably  accounts  for  the 
fiicti.    And  80,  over  and  above  apostles,  and  gospels. 


VIII.]  AND  THE  GR.  J  VE  OF  THE  LIVING  JESUS,  167 


and  epistles,  the  Qiarch  is  the  great  witness,  by  its  very 
being,  to  its  own  immediate  and  continuous  belief  in  the 
resurrection  of  oir Lord. 

III.  Agair^  re  may  remark  that  such  a  belief  could 
noi  have  nrir^inated  or  maintained  itself  unless  it  had 
been  trie. 

Our  previous  remarks  have  gone  no  farther  than  to 
estabhsh  the  belief  in  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  as  the 
basis  of  primitive  Christianity.  It  is  vehemently  alleged, 
and  we  may  freely  admit,  that  the  step  is  a  long  one 
from  subjective  behef  to  objective  reality.  But  still  it  is 
surely  perfectly  fair  to  argue  that  a  given  belief  is  of  such 
a  nature  that  it  cmnot  be  supposed  to  rest  on  anything 
less  solid  than  a  fact ;  and  this  is  eminently  the  case  in 
regard  to  the  belief  in  Christ's  resurrection.  There  have 
been  many  attempts  on  the  part  of  those  who  reject  that 
belief  to  account  for  its  existence,  and  each  of  them  in 
succession  h/.s  "  had  its  day,  and  ceased  to  be."  Un- 
belief devi^urs  its  own  children  remorselessly,  and  the 
succession  to  the  throne  of  anti-christian  scepticism  is 
won,  r.s  in  some  barbarous  tribes,  by  slaying  the  reigning 
sovereign.  The  armies  of  the  aliens  turn  their  weapons 
again:»t  one  another,  and  each  new  assailant  of  the 
historical  veracity  of  the  gospels  commences  operations 
by  showing  that  all  previous  assailants  have  been 
wrong,  and  that  none  of  their  explanations  will  hold 
water. 

For  instance,  we  hear  nothing  now  of  the  coarse  old 
explanation  th&r  the  story  of  the  resurrection  was  a  li«^ 


i68        THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN     [serm. 

and  became  current  through  the  conscious  imposture  of 
the  leaders  of  the  Church.  And  it  was  high  time  that 
such  a  solution  should  be  laid  aside.  Who,  with  half  an 
eye  for  character,  could  study  the  deeds  and  the  writings 
of  the  apostles,  and  not  feel  that,  whatever  else  they 
were,  they  were  profoundly  honest,  and  as  convinced  as 
of  their  own  existence,  that  they  had  seen  Christ  **  alive 
after  His  passion,  by  many  infallible  proofs  "  ?  If  Paul 
and  Peter  and  John  were  conspirators  in  a  trick,  then 
their  lives  and  their  words  were  the  most  astounding 
anomaly.  Who,  either,  that  had  the  faintest  perception 
of  the  forces  that  sway  opinion  and  frame  systems,  could 
believe  that  the  fair  fabric  of  Christian  morality  was  built 
on  the  sand  of  a  lie,  and  cemented  by  the  slime  of  deceit 
bubbling  up  from  the  very  pit  of  hell  ?  Do  men  gather 
grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles?  That  insolent 
hypothesis  has  had  its  day. 

Then  when  it  was  discredited,  we  were  told  the  myth- 
ical tendency  would  explain  everything.  It  showed  us 
how  good  men  could  tell  hes  without  knowing  it,  and 
how  the  religious  value  of  an  alleged  fact  in  an  alleged 
historical  revelation  did  not  in  the  least  depend  on  its 
being  a  fact  And  that  great  discovery,  which  first  con- 
verted soHd  historical  Christianity  into  a  gaseous  condi- 
tion, and  then  caught  the  fumes  in  some  kind  of  retort, 
and  professed  to  hand  us  them  back  again  improved  by 
the  sublimation,  has  pretty  well  gone  the  way  of  all  hy- 
potheses. Myths  are  not  made  in  three  days,  or  in  three 
years,  and  no  more  time  can  be  allowed  for  the  formation 
of  the  myth  of  the  resurrection.    What  was  the  Church 


nn.^AND  THE  GRAVE  OF  THE  LIVING  JESC/S.  169 

to  feed  on  while  the  myth  was  growing  ?    It  would  have 
been  starved  to  death  long  before. 

Then,  the  last  new  explanation  which  is  gravely  put 
forward,  and  is  the  prevailing  one  now,  sustains  itself  by 
reference  to  undeniable  facts  in  the  history  of  religious 
movements,  and  of  such  abnormal  attitudes  of  the  mind 
as  modem  spiritualism.  On  the  strength  of  which  ana- 
logy we  are  invited  to  see  in  the  faith  of  the  early  Chris- 
tians in  the  resurrection  of  the  Lord  a  gigantic  instance  of 
"hallucination."  No  doubt  there  have  been,  and  still 
arc,  extraordinary  instances  of  its  power,  especially  in 
minds  excited  by  religious  ideas.  But  we  have  only  to 
consider  the  details  of  the  facts  in  hand  to  feel  that  they 
cannot  be  accounted  for  on  such  a  ground.  Do  halluci- 
nations lay  hold  on  five  hundred  people  at  once  ?  Does  a 
hallucination  last  for  a  long  country  walk,  and  give  rise 
to  protracted  conversation  ?  Does  hallucination  explain 
the  story  of  Christ  eating  and  drinking  before  His  dis- 
ciples ?  The  uncertain  twilight  of  the  garden  might  have 
begotten  such  an  airy  phantom  in  the  brain  of  a  single 
sobbing  woman ;  but  the  appearances  to  be  explained 
are  so  numerous,  so  varied  in  character,  embrace  so 
many  details,  appeal  to  so  many  of  the  senses — to  the  ear 
and  hand  as  well  as  to  the  eye — were  spread  over  so 
long  a  period,  and  were  simultaneously  shared  by  so  large 
a  number,  that  no  theory  of  such  a  sort  can  account  for 
them,  unless  by  impugning  the  veracity  of  the  records. 
And  then  we  are  back  again  on  the  old  abandoned 
ground  of  deceit  and  imposture.  It  sounds  plausible  to 
say,  Hallucination  is  a  proved  cause  of  many  a  supposed 


I70        THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN     [SERM. 

supernatural  event — why  not  of  this?  But  the  plausi- 
bihty  of  the  solution  ceases  as  soon  as  you  try  it  on  the 
actual  facts  in  their  variety  and  completeness.  It  has 
to  be  eked  out  with  a  length  of  the  fox's  skin  of  deceit 
before  it  covers  them  j  and  we  may  confidently  assert 
that  such  a  belief  as  the  belief  of  the  early  Church  in  the 
resurrection  of  the  Lord  was  never  the  product  either  of 
deceit  or  of  illusion,  or  of  any  amalgam  of  the  two. 

What  new  solutions  the  fertility  of  unbelief  may  yet 
bring  forth,  and  the  credulity  of  unbelief  may  yet  accept, 
we  know  not :  but  we  may  firmly  hold  by  the  faith  which 
breathed  new  hope  and  strange  joy  into  that  sad  band 
on  the  first  Easter  morning,  and  rejoice  with  them  in 
the  glad  wonderful  fact  that  He  is  risen  from  the  dead. 

rV.  For  that  message  is  a  message  to  us  as  truly  as  to 
the  heavy-hearted  unbelieving  men  that  first  received  it 
We  may  think  for  a  moment  of  the  joy  with  which  we 
should  return  from  the  sepulchre  of  the  risen  Saviour. 

How  httle  these  women  knew  that,  as  they  went  back 
from  the  grave  in  the  morning  twilight,  they  were  the 
bearers  of  "  great  joy  which  should  be  to  all  people ! " 
To  them  and  to  the  first  hearers  of  their  message  there 
would  be  litde  clear  in  the  rush  of  glad  surprise,  beyond 
the  blessed  thought,  Then  He  is  not  gone  firom  us  alto- 
gether. Sweet  visions  of  the  resumption  of  happy  com- 
panionship would  fill  their  minds,  and  it  would  not  be 
until  calmer  moments  that  the  stupendous  significance 
of  the  fact  would  reveal  itsel£ 

Mary's  rapturous  gesture  to  clasp  Him  bj  the  feet. 


Tin.]  AND  THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  LIVING  JESUS.  171 

when  the  certainty  that  it  was  in  very  deed  He,  flooded 
her  soul  with  dazzling  light,  reveals  her  first  emotion, 
which  no  doubt  was  also  the  first  with  them  all,  "  Then 
we  shall  have  Him  with  us  again,  and  all  the  old  joy  of 
companionship  will  be  ours  once  more."  Nor  were  they 
wrong  in  thinking  so,  however  httle  they  as  yet  under- 
stood the  future  manner  of  their  fellowship,  or  antici- 
pated His  leaving  them  so  soon.  Nor  are  we  without  a 
share  even  in  that  phase  of  their  joy ;  for  the  resurrec- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ  gives  us  a  living  Lord  for  our  love, 
an  ever  present  Companion  and  Brother  for  our  hearts 
to  hold,  even  if  our  hands  cannot  clasp  Him  by  the  feet 
A  dead  Christ  might  have  been  the  object  of  faint  his- 
torical admiration,  and  the  fair  statue  might  have  stood 
amidst  others  in  the  halls  of  the  world  j  but  the  risen, 
living  Christ  can  love  and  be  loved,  and  we  too  may 
be  glad  with  the  joy  of  those  who  have  found  a  heart  to 
rest  their  hearts  upon,  and  a  companionship  that  can 
never  fail 

As  the  early  disciples  learned  to  reflect  upon  the  fact 
of  Christ's  resurrection,  its  riches  unfolded  themselves  by 
degrees,  and  the  earliest  aspect  of  its  "  power  "  was  the 
light  it  shed  on  His  person  and  work.  Taught  by  it,  as 
we  have  seen,  they  recognised  Him  for  the  Messiah 
whom  they  had  long  expected,  and  for  something  more 
— the  Incarnate  Son  of  God.  That  phase  of  their  joy 
belongs  to  us  too.  If  Christ,  who  made  such  avowals  of 
His  nature  as  we  know  He  did,  and  hazarded  such 
assertions  of  His  claims,  His  personality  and  His  ofllce, 
as  fill  the  gospels,  were  really  laid  in  the  grave  aad  taw 


172        THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  DEAD  JOHN     [serm. 

corruption,  then  the  assertions  are  disproved,  the  claims 
unwarranted,  the  office  a  figment  of  His  imagination. 
He  may  still  remain  a  great  teacher,  with  a  tremendous 
deduction  to  be  made  from  the  worth  of  His  teaching. 
But  all  that  is  deepest  in  His  own  words  about  Himself, 
and  His  relation  to  men,  must  be  sorrowfully  put  on  one 
side.  But  if  He,  after  such  assertions  and  claims,  rose 
from  the  dead,  and  rising,  dieth  no  more,  then  for  the 
last  time,  and  in  the  mightiest  tones,  the  voice  that  rent 
the  heavens  at  His  baptism  and  His  transfiguration 
proclaims:  "This  is  My  beloved  Son;  hear  ye  Him." 
Our  joy  in  His  resurrection  is  the  joy  of  those  to  whom 
He  is  therein  declared  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  and  who 
see  in  Christ  risen  their  accepted  Sacrifice,  and  their 
ever-living  Redeemer. 

Such  was  the  earliest  effect  of  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus,  if  we  trust  the  records  of  apostolic  preaching. 
Then  by  degrees  the  joyful  thought  took  shape  in  the 
Church's  consciousness  that  their  Shepherd  had  gone 
before  them  into  the  dark  pen  where  Death  pastured  his 
flocks,  and  had  taken  it  for  His  own,  for  the  quiet  resting- 
place  where  He  would  make  them  He  down  by  still 
waters,  and  whence  He  would  lead  them  out  to  the  lofty 
mountains  where  His  fold  should  be.  The  power  of 
Christ's  resurrection  as  the  pattern  and  pledge  of  ours  is 
the  final  source  of  the  joy  which  may  fill  our  hearts  as 
we  turn  away  from  that  empty  sepulchre. 

The  world  has  guessed  and  feared,  or  guessed  and 
hoped,  but  always  guessed  and  doubted  the  life  beyond. 
AzulogieSy  poetic  adumbrations,  probabilities  drawn  from 


VIII.]  AND  THE  GRA  VE  OF  THE  LIVING  JESUS.  173 

consciousness  and  from  conscience,  from  intuition  and 
from  anticipation,  are  but  poor  foundations  on  which  to 
build  a  soHd  faith.  But  to  those  to  whom  the  resurrec- 
tion of  Christ  is  a  fact  their  own  future  Kfe  is  a  fact. 
Here  we  have  a  sohd  certainty,  and  here  alone.  The 
heart  says  as  we  lay  our  dear  ones  in  the  grave,  "Surely 
we  part  not  for  ever."  The  conscience  says,  as  it  points 
us  to  our  own  evil  deeds,  "  After  death  the  judgment." 
A  deep  indestructible  instinct  prophesies  in  every  breast 
of  a  future.  But  all  is  vague  and  doubtful.  The  one 
proof  of  a  life  beyond  the  grave  is  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  Christ  Therefore  let  us  be  glad  with  the  gladness 
of  men  plucked  from  a  dark  abyss  of  doubt  and  un- 
certainty, and  planted  on  the  rock  of  solid  certainty  ; 
and  let  us  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable,  and  laden  with 
A  prophetic  weight  of  glory,  as  we  ring  out  the  ancient 
Easter  morning's  greeting,  "  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed  I " 


SERMON   IX. 

THB  TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH  AND  THE 
ASCENSION  OF  CHRIST. 

3  Kings  ii  ii. 

And  it  came  to  past,  as  they  still  went  on,  and  talked,  that,  behold, 
there  appeared  a  chariot  of  fire,  and  horses  of  fire,  and  parted 
them  both  asunder ;  and  Elijah  went  up  by  a  whirlwind  into 
heaven. 

St.  Luke  xxIt.  51. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  while  he  blessed  them,  he  was  parted 
from  them,  and  carried  up  into  heaven. 

HTHESE  two  events,  the  Translation  of  Elijah  and  the 
•*•  Ascension  of  our  Lord,  have  sometimes  been  put 
side  by  side  in  order  to  show  that  the  latter  narrative  is 
nothing  but  a  "  variant "  of  the  former.  See,  it  is  said, 
the  source  of  your  New  Testament  story  is  only  the  old 
legend  shaped  anew  by  the  wistful  regrets  of  the  early 
disciples.  But  to  me  it  seems  that  the  simple  comparison 
of  the  two  narratives  is  sufficient  to  bring  out  such  funda- 
mental difference  in  the  ideas  which  they  respectively  em- 
body as  amount  to  opposition,  and  make  any  such  theory 
of  the  origin  of  the  later  absurdly  improbable.  I  could 
wish  no  better  foil  for  the  history  of  the  ascension  than 
the  history  of  Elijah's  rapture.     The  comparison  brings 


SKRiL  IX.]  THE  TRANSLA  TION  OF  ELIJAH,       17s 

out  contrasti  at  every  step,  and  there  is  no  readier  way  of 
throwing  mto  strong  relief  the  meaning  and  purpose  of  the 
former,  than  holding  up  beside  it  the  story  of  the  latter. 
The  real  parallel  makes  the  divergences  the  more  remark- 
able, for  likeness  sharpens  our  perception  of  unlikeness, 
and  no  contrast  is  so  forcible  as  the  contrast  of  things  that 
correspond.  I  am  much  mistaken  if  we  shall  not  find  al- 
most every  truth  of  importance  connected  with  our  Lord's 
ascension  emphasised  for  us  by  the  comparison  to  which 
we  now  proceed. 

I.  The  first  point  which  may  be  mentioned  ii  the  con- 
trast between  the  manner  of  Elijah's  translation,  and  that 
of  our  Lord's  ascension. 

It  is  perhaps  not  without  significance  that  the  place  of 
the  one  event  was  on  the  uplands  or  in  some  of  the  rocky 
gorges  beyond  Jordan,  and  that  of  the  other,  the  slopes 
of  Ohvet  above  Bethany.  The  lonely  prophet,  who  had 
burst  like  a  meteor  on  Israel  from  the  solitudes  of  Gilead, 
whose  fervour  had  ever  and  again  been  rekindled  by  re- 
turn to  the  wilderness,  whose  whole  career  had  isolated 
him  from  men,  found  the  fitting  place  for  that  last  wonder 
amidst  the  stem  silence  where  he  had  so  often  sought 
asylum  and  inspiration.  He  was  close  to  the  scenes  of 
mighty  events  in  the  past  There,  on  that  overhanging 
peak,  the  lawgiver  whose  work  he  was  continuing  and 
with  whom  he  was  to  be  so  strangely  associated  on  the 
Mount  of  Transfiguration,  had  made  him  ready  for  his 
lonely  grave.  Here  at  his  feet,  the  river  had  parted  for 
the  victorious  inarch  of  Israel    Away  down   oa    hb 


176        THE  TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH     [serm. 

horizon  the  sunshine  gleamed  on  the  waters  of  the  Dead 
Sea ;  and  thus,  on  his  native  soil,  surrounded  by  memo- 
rials of  the  Law  which  he  laboured  to  restore,  and  of  the 
victories  which  he  would  fain  have  brought  back,  and  of 
the  judgments  which  he  saw  again  impending  over  Israel, 
tiie  stem  solitary  ascetic,  the  prophet  of  righteousness, 
whose  single  arm  stayed  the  downward  course  of  a  nation, 
passed  from  his  toil  and  his  warfare. 

What  a  different  set  of  associations  cluster  round  the 
place  of  Christ's  ascension — "  Bethany,"  or,  as  it  is  more 
particularly  specified  in  the  Acts,  "  Olivet  1 "  In  the 
very  heart  of  the  land,  close  by  and  yet  out  of  sight  of 
the  great  city,  in  no  wild  solitude,  but  perhaps  in  some 
dimple  of  the  hill,  neither  shunning  nor  courting  spec- 
ators,  with  the  quiet  home  where  he  had  rested  so  often 
m  the  little  village  at  their  feet  there,  and  Gethsemane 
a  few  furlongs  off,  in  such  scenes  did  the  Christ  whose 
delights  were  with  the  sons  of  men,  and  His  life  lived  in 
closest  companionship  with  His  brethren,  choose  the  place 
whence  He  should  ascend  lo  their  Father  and  His  Father. 
Nor  perhaps  was  it  without  a  meaning  that  the  Mount 
which  received  the  last  print  of  His  ascending  footstep 
was  that  which  a  mysterious  prophecy  designated  as 
destined  to  receive  the  first  print  of  the  footstep  of  the 
Lord  coming  to  end  the  long  warfare  with  evil  at  a  future 
day. 

But  more  important  than  the  localities  is  the  contrasted 
manner  of  the  two  ascents.  The  prophet's  end  was  like 
the  man.  It  was  fitting  that  he  should  be  swept  up  the 
skies  in  tempest  and  fire.     The  impetuosity  of  bis  nature, 


IX.]       AND  THE  ASCENSION  OF  CHRIST,       ip 

and  the  stormy  energy  of  his  career  had  already  been 
symboUsed  in  the  mighty  and  strong  wind  which  rent  the 
rocks,  and  in  the  fire  that  followed  the  earthquake ;  and 
similarly  nothing  could  be  more  appropriate  than  that 
sudden  rapture  in  storm  and  whirlwind,  escorted  by  the 
flaming  chivalry  of  heaven. 

Nor  is  it  only  as  appropriate  to  the  character  of  the 
prophet  and  his  work  that  this  tempestuous  translation 
is  noteworthy.  It  also  suggests  very  plainly  that  Ehjah 
was  lifted  to  the  skies  by  power  acting  on  him  from 
without  He  did  not  ascend;  he  was  carried  up;  the 
earthly  frame  and  the  human  nature  had  no  power  to 
rise.  "  No  man  hath  ascended  into  heaven."  The  two 
men  of  whom  the  Old  Testament  speaks  were  aUke  in 
this,  that  "  God  took  them,"  The  tempest  and  the  fiery 
chariot  tell  us  how  great  was  the  exercise  of  Divine  power 
which  bore  the  gross  mortality  thither,  and  how  unfamiliar 
the  sphere  into  which  it  passed. 

How  full  of  the  very  spirit  of  Christ's  whole  life  is  the 
contrasted  manner  of  His  ascension  I  The  silent  gentle- 
ness, which  did  not  strive  nor  cry  nor  cause  His  voice  to 
be  heard  in  the  streets,  marks  Him  even  in  that  hour  of 
lofty  and  transcendent  triumph.  There  is  no  outward 
sign  to  accompany  His  slow  upward  movement  through 
the  quiet  air.  No  blaze  of  fiery  chariots,  nor  agitation 
of  tempest  is  needed  to  bear  Him  heavenwards.  The 
out-stretched  hands  drop  the  dew  of  His  benediction  on 
the  little  company,  and  so  He  floats  upward.  His  own  will 
and  indweUing  power  the  royal  chariot  which  bears 
him,  and  calmly  **  leaves  the  world  and  goes  unto  the 

M 


178        THE  TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH      [serm. 

Father.**  The  slow  continuous  movement  of  ascent  is 
emphatically  made  prominent  in  the  brief  narratives,  both 
by  the  phrase  in  Luke,  "  He  was  carried  up,"  which 
expresses  the  continuous  leisurely  motion,  and  by  the 
picture  in  the  Acts,  of  the  disciples  gazing  into  heaven 
"  as  He  went  up,"  in  which  latter  word  is  brought  out, 
not  only  the  slowness  of  the  movement,  but  its  origin  in 
His  own  will  and  its  carrying  out  by  His  own  power. 

Nor  is  this  absence  of  any  vehicle  or  external  agency 
destroyed  by  the  fact  that "  a  cloud  "  received  Him  out  of 
their  sight,  for  its  purpose  was  not  to  raise  Him  heaven- 
ward, but  to  hide  Him  from  the  gazers*  eyes,  that  He 
might  not  seem  to  them  to  dwindle  into  distance,  but 
that  their  last  look  and  memory  might  be  of  His  clearly 
discerned  and  loving  face.  Possibly  too,  we  may  be 
intended  to  remember  the  cloud  which  guided  Israel,  the 
glory  which  dwelt  between  the  cherubim,  the  cloud  which 
overshadowed  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  and  to  see 
in  this  a  symbol  of  the  Divine  Presence  welcoming  to 
itself,  His  battle  fought,  the  Son  of  His  love. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  manner  of  our  Lord's  ascension 
by  His  own  inherent  power  is  brought  into  boldest  relief 
when  contrasted  with  Elijah's  rapture,  and  is  evidently 
the  fitting  expression,  as  it  is  the  consequence,  of  His  sole 
and  singular  Divine  nature.  It  accords  with  His  own 
manner  of  reference  to  the  ascension,  while  He  was  on 
earth,  which  ever  represents  Him  not  as  being  taken^  but 
as  going:  *'I  leave  the  world  and  go  to  the  Father." 
"  I  ascend  to  my  Father  and  their  Father,"  The  highest 
lM)pc  of  the  devoutest  souls  before  Him  had  been, ''  Thou 


DL]       AND  THE  ASCENSION  OF  CHRIST.       179 

wilt  afterwards  take  me  to  glory."  The  highest  hope  of 
devout  souls  since  Him  has  been,  "  We  shall  be  caught 
up  to  meet  the  Lord."  But  this  man  ever  speaks  of 
Himself  as  able  when  He  will,  by  His  own  power,  to  rise 
where  no  man  hath  ascended.  His  Divine  nature  and 
pre-existence  shine  clearly  forth,  and  as  we  stand  gazing 
at  Him  blessing  the  world  as  He  rises  into  the  heavens, 
we  know  that  we  are  looking  on  no  mere  mysterious 
elevation  of  a  mortal  to  the  skies,  but  are  beholding  the 
return  of  the  Incarnate  Lord,  that  willed  to  tarry  among 
our  eartlily  tabernacles  for  a  time,  to  the  glory  where 
He  was  before,  **  His  own  calm  home,  His  habitation  from 
etemitj." 

n.  Another  striking  point  of  contrast  embraces  tht 
relation  which  these  two  events  respectively  bear  to  thi 
lifis  work  which  had  preceded  them. 

The  falling  mantle  of  Elijah  has  become  a  symbol 
known  to  all  the  world,  for  the  transference  of  unfinished 
tasks  and  the  appointment  of  successors  to  departed 
greatness.  Elisha  asked  that  he  might  have  a  double 
portion  of  his  master's  spirit,  not  meaning  twice  as  much 
as  his  master  had  had,  but  the  eldest  son's  share  of  the 
father's  possessions,  the  double  of  the  other  children's 
portion.  And,  though  his  master  had  no  power  to 
bestow  the  gift,  and  had  to  reply  as  one  who  has  nothing 
that  he  has  not  received,  and  cannot  dispose  of  the  grace 
that  dwells  in  him,  the  prayer  was  answered,  and  the 
feebler  nature  of  Elisha  was  fitted  for  the  continuance  of 
the  work  which  Elijah  left  undone. 


i8o        THE  TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH     [serm. 

The  mantle  that  passed  from  one  to  the  other  was  the 
symbol  of  office  and  authority  transferred ;  the  functions 
were  the  same,  whilst  the  holders  had  changed.  The  sons 
of  the  prophets  bow  before  the  new  master ;  "  the  spirit 
of  Elijah  doth  rest  on  Eiisha." 

So  the  world  goes  on.  Man  after  man  serves  his 
generation  by  the  will  of  God,  and  is  gathered  to  his 
fathers;  and  a  new  arm  grasps  the  mantie  to  smite 
Jordan,  and  a  new  voice  speaks  from  his  empty  place, 
and  men  recognise  the  successor,  and  forget  the  pre- 
decessor. 

We  turn  to  Christ's  ascension,  and  there  we  meet  with 
nothing  analogous  to  this  transference  of  office.  No 
mantle  falling  from  His  shoulders  lights  on  any  of  that 
group,  none  are  hailed  as  His  successors.  What  He  has 
done  bears  and  needs  no  repetition  whilst  time  shall  roll, 
whilst  eternity  shall  last  His  work  is  one ;  "  the  help 
that  is  done  on  earth,  He  doeth  it  all  Himselfl"  His 
ascension  completed  the  witness  of  heaven  begun  at  His 
resurrection  that  **  He  has  offered  one  sacrifice  for  sins, 
for  ever."  He  has  left  no  unfinished  work  which  another 
may  perfect  He  has  done  no  work  which  another 
may  do  again  for  new  generations.  He  has  spoken  all 
truth,  and  none  may  add  to  His  words.  He  has  fulfilled 
all  righteousness,  and  none  may  better  His  pattern.  He 
has  borne  all  the  world's  sin,  and  no  time  can  waste  the 
power  of  that  sacrifice,  nor  any  man  add  to  its  absolute 
sufficiency.  This  king  of  men  wears  a  crown  to  which 
there  is  no  heir.  This  priest  has  a  priesthood  which 
passci  to  no  other.      This  ^* prophet **  does  "live  for 


IX.]       AND  THE  ASCENSION  OF  CHRIST.       i8i 

ever."  The  world  sees  all  other  guides  and  helpers  pass 
away,  and  every  man's  work  is  caught  up  by  other  hands 
and  carried  on  where  he  drops  it,  and  the  short  memories 
and  shorter  gratitudes  of  men  turn  to  the  rising  sun  ;  but 
one  name  remains  undimmed  by  distance,  and  one  work 
remains  unapproached  and  unapproachable,  and  one  man 
remains  whose  office  none  other  can  hold,  whose  bow  none 
but  He  can  bend,  whose  mantle  none  can  wear.  Christ 
has  ascended  up  on  high  and  left  a  finished  work  foi 
all  men  to  trust,  for  no  man  to  continue, 

III.  Whilst  our  Lord's  ascension  is  thus  marked  as  the 
seal  of  a  work  in  which  He  has  no  successor,  it  is  also 
emphatically  set  forth,  by  contrast  with  Elijah's  translation, 
as  the  transition  to  a  continuous  energy  for  and  in  the 
world. 

Clearly  the  other  narrative  derives  all  its  pathos  from 
the  thought  that  Elijah's  work  is  done.  His  task  is  over, 
and  nothing  more  is  to  be  hoped  for  from  him.  But  that 
same  absence  from  the  history  of  Christ's  ascension,  o! 
any  hint  of  a  successor,  to  which  we  have  referred  in  the 
previous  remarks,  has  an  obvious  bearing  on  His  present 
relation  to  the  world  as  well  as  on  the  completeness  of 
His  unique  past  work. 

When  He  ascended  up  on  high.  He  rchnquished 
nothing  of  His  activity  for  us,  but  only  cast  it  into  a  new 
form,  which  in  some  sense  is  yet  higher  than  that  which 
it  took  on  earth.  His  work  for  the  world  is  in  one 
aspect  completed  on  the  cross,  but  in  another  it  will 
never  be  completed  until  all  the  blessings  which  that 


x82        THE  TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH      [serm. 

cross  has  lodged  in  the  midst  of  humanity,  have  reached 
their  widest  possible  diffusion  and  their  highest  possible 
development  Long  ages  ago  He  cried,  '*  It  is  finished," 
but  we  may  be  far  yet  from  the  time  when  He  shall  say, 
"  It  is  done  ; "  and  for  all  the  slow  years  between  His  own 
word  gives  us  the  law  of  his  activity,  "  My  father  worketh 
hitherto,  and  I  work." 

That  ascension  is  no  withdrawal  of  the  Captain  of  our 
salvation  from  the  field  where  we  are  left  to  fight,  nor 
has  He  gone  up  to  the  mountain,  leaving  us  alone  to  tug 
at  the  oar,  and  shiver  in  the  cold  night  air.  True,  there 
may  seem  a  strange  contrast  between  the  present  condi- 
tion of  the  Lord  who  "  was  received  up  into  heaven,  and 
sat  on  the  right  hand  of  God,"  and  that  of  the  servants 
wandering  through  the  world  on  His  business ;  but  the 
contrast  is  harmonised  by  the  next  words,  "  the  Lord 
also  worketh  with  them."  Yes,  He  has  gone  up  to  sit  at 
the  right  hand  of  God.  That  session  at  God's  right  hand 
to  which  the  ascension  is  chiefly  of  importance  as  the 
transition,  means  the  repose  of  a  perfected  redemption^ 
the  communion  of  Divine  worship,  the  exercise  of  all  the 
omnipotence  of  God,  the  administration  of  the  world's 
history.  He  has  ascended  that  He  might  fill  all  things, 
that  He  might  pour  out  His  spirit  upon  us,  that  the  path 
to  God  may  be  trodden  by  our  lame  feet,  that  the  whole 
resources  of  the  Divine  nature  may  be  wielded  by  the 
hands  that  were  nailed  to  the  cross,  and  for  the  further- 
ance of  the  same  mighty  purpose  of  salvation. 

Elijah  knew  not  whether  his  spirit  could  descend  upon 
his  follower.     But  Christ,  though  as  we  have  said,  He 


IX.]       AND  THE  ASCENSION  OF  CHRIST.        183 

left  no  legaqr  of  falling  mantle  to  any,  left  His  spirit  to 
His  people.  What  Elisha  gained,  Elijah  lost  What 
Elisha  desired,  Elijah  could  not  give  nor  guarantee. 
How  firm  and  assured  beside  Elijah's  dubious  "Thou 
hast  asked  a  hard  thing,"  and  his  "  If  thou  see  me,  it  shall 
be  so**  is  Christ's  "It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away. 
For  if  I  go  not  away  the  Comforter  will  not  come,  but  if 
I  depart,  I  will  send  him  unto  you." 

So  manifold  are  the  forms  of  that  new  and  continuous 
activity  of  Christ  into  which  He  had  passed  when  He  left 
the  earth :  and  as  we  contrast  these  with  the  utter  help- 
lessness any  longer  to  counsel,  rebuke  or  save,  to  which 
death  reduces  those  who  love  us  best,  and  to  which  even 
his  glorious  rapture  into  the  heavens  brought  the  strong 
prophet  of  fire,  we  can  take  up,  with  a  new  depth  of 
meaning,  the  ancient  words  that  tell  of  Christ's  exclusive 
prerogative  of  succouring  and  inspiring  from  within  the 
veil :  "  Thou  hast  ascended  on  high ;  thou  hast  led 
captivity  captive ;  thou  hast  received  gifts  for  men." 

IV.  The  ascension  of  Christ  is  still  further  set  forth, 
in  its  very  circumstances,  by  contrast  with  Elijah's 
translation,  as  bearing  on  the  hopes  of  humanity  for  the 
future. 

The  prophet  is  caught  up  to  the  glory  and  the  rest 
for  himself  alone,  and  the  sole  share  which  the  gazing 
follower  or  the  sons  of  the  prophets,  straining  their  eyes 
there  at  Jericho,  had  in  his  triumph,  was  a  deepened  con- 
viction of  this  prophet's  mission,  and  perhaps  some 
clearer  faith  in  a  future  life.     Their  wonder  and  soitp^. 


134       THE  TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH     [serm. 

Elisha's  immediate  grasping  of  his  new  power,  the 
prophets'  immediate  transference  of  their  allegiance  to 
their  new  head,  show  that  on  both  sides  it  was  felt  they 
had  no  interest  in  the  event  beyond  that  of  awe-struck 
beholders.  No  light  streamed  from  it  on  their  own 
future.  The  path  they  had  to  tread  was  still  the  common 
road  into  the  great  darkness,  as  solitary  and  unknown  as 
before.  The  chariot  of  fire  parted  their  master  fi-om  the 
common  experience  of  humanity  as  from  their  fellowship, 
making  him  an  exception  to  the  sad  rule  of  death,  which 
frowned  the  grimmer  and  more  inexorable  by  contrast 
with  his  radiant  translation. 

The  very  reverse  is  true  of  Christ's  ascension.  In  Him 
our  nature  is  taken  up  to  the  throne  of  God.  His  resur- 
rection assures  us  that  "  them  which  sleep  in  Jesus  will 
God  bring  with  him."  His  passage  to  the  heavens 
assures  us  that  "  they  who  are  alive  and  remain  shall  be 
caught  up  together  with  them,"  and  that  all  of  both 
companies  shall  with  Him  Uve  and  reign,  sharing  His 
dominion,  and  moulded  to  His  image. 

If  we  would  know  of  what  our  manhood  is  capable,  if 
we  would  rise  to  the  height  of  the  hopes  which  God 
means  that  we  should  cherish,  if  we  would  gain  a  living 
grasp  of  the  power  that  fulfils  them,  we  have  to  stand 
there  gazing  on  the  piled  cloud  that  sails  slowly  upwards, 
the  pure  floor  for  our  Brother's  feet  As  we  watch  it 
rising  with  a  motion  which  is  res^,  we  have  the  right  to 
think,  **  Thither  the  forerunner  is  for  us  entered."  We 
see  there  what  man  is  meant  for,  what  men  who  love  Him 
Attain.    T^e,  the  world  is  still  full  of  death  and  sonow. 


IX.]       AND  THE  ASCENSION  OF  CHRIST.       185 

man's  dominion  seems  a  futile  dream  and  a  hope  that 
mocks,  but  we  see  Jesus,  ascended  up  on  high,  and  in 
Him  we  too  are  made  to  sit  together  in  heavenly  places.' 
"  The  breaker  is  gone  up  before  them.  Their  king  shall 
pass  before  them,  and  the  Lord  at  the  head  of  them." 

There  is  yet  another  aspect  in  which  our  Lord's  ascen- 
fion  bears  on  our  hopes  for  the  future,  namely,  as  con- 
nected with  His  coming  again. 

There,  too,  the  contrast  of  Elijah's  translation  may 
scrre  for  emphasis.  Prophecy,  indeed,  in  its  latest 
voice,  spoke  of  sending  Elijah  the  prophet  before  the 
coming  of  the  day  of  the  Lord,  and  rabbinical  legends 
delighted  to  tell  how  he  had  been  carried  to  the  Garden 
of  Eden,  whence  he  would  come  again,  in  Israel's  sorest 
need.  But  the  prophecy  had  no  thought  of  a  personal 
reappearance,  and  the  dreams  are  only  dreams  such  as 
we  find  in  the  legendary  history  of  many  nauons.  As 
EHisha  recrossed  the  Jordan,  he  bore  with  him  only  a 
mantle  and  a  memory,  not  a  hope. 

"Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  np  into 
heaven  ?  This  same  Jesus,  which  is  taken  up  firom  you 
into  heaven,  shall  so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have 
seen  him  ^^o  into  heaven.**  How  grand  is  the  use  in 
these  mighty  words  of  the  name  Jesus,  the  name  that 
8p>eaks  of  His  true  humanity,  with  all  its  weakness,  limita- 
tions, and  sorrow,  with  all  its  tenderness  and  brotherhood ! 
The  man  who  died  and  rose  again,  has  gone  up  on  high. 
**  He  will  so  come  as  He  has  gone."  "  So  "—-that  is  to 
say,  personally,  corporeally,  visibly,  on  clouds,  perhaps 
10  that  vexy  spot,  *^  and  bis  feet  shall  stand  in  that  day 


i86      THE  TRANSLA  TION  OF  ELIJAH,  [serm.  ix. 

upon  the  Mount  of  Olives."  Thus  Scripture  teaches  us 
ever  to  associate  together  the  departure  and  the  coming 
of  the  Lord,  and  always  when  we  meditate  on  His  as- 
cension to  prepare  a  place  for  us,  to  think  of  His  real 
presence  with  us  through  the  ages,  and  of  His  coming 
again  to  receive  us  to  Himself. 

That  parting  on  Olivet  cannot  be  the  end.  Such  a 
leave-taking  is  the  prophecy  of  happy  greetings  and  an 
inseparable  reunion.  The  king  hag  gone  to  receive  a 
kingdom,  and  to  return.  Memory  and  hope  coalesce,  as 
we  think  of  Him  who  is  passed  into  the  heavens,  and  the 
heart  of  the  church  has  to  cherish  at  once  the  glad 
thought  that  its  Head  and  helper  has  entered  within  the 
veil,  and  the  still  more  joyous  one,  which  lightens  the 
days  of  separation  and  widowhood,  that  the  Lord  will 
come  again. 

So  let  us  take  our  share  in  the  great  joy  with  which 
the  disciples  returned  to  Jerusalem,  left  Uke  sheep  in 
the  midst  of  wolves  as  they  were,  and  "let  us  set  oui 
affections  on  things  above,  where  Christ  is^  sitting  at 
the  right  hand  of  God." 


SERMON   X. 

CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  I 

A   NEW  YEAR'S   SERMON. 

Isaiah  Ivi.  12. 
To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more  abundant. 

'X'HESE  words,  as  they  stand,  are  the  call  of  boon 
companions  to  new  revelry.  They  are  part  of  the 
prophet's  picture  of  a  corrupt  age  when  the  men  of  influ- 
ence and  position  had  thrown  away  their  sense  of  duty, 
and  had  given  themselves  over,  as  aristocracies  and  pluto- 
cracies are  ever  tempted  to  do,  to  mere  luxury  and  good 
living.  They  are  summoning  one  another  to  their  coarse 
orgies.  The  roystering  speaker  says,  "  Do  not  be  afraid 
to  drink;  the  cellar  will  hold  out  To-day's  carouse 
will  not  empty  it;  there  will  be  enough  for  to-morrow." 
He  forgets  to-morrow's  headaches  ;  he  forgets  that  on 
some  to-morrow  the  wine  will  be  finished ;  he  forgets  that 
the  fingers  of  a  hand  may  write  the  doom  of  the  rioters 
on  the  very  walls  of  the  banqueting  chamber. 

What  have  such  words,  the  very  motto  of  insolent  pre- 
sumption and  short-sighted  animalism,  to  do  with  New 
Year's  thoughts  ?  Only  this,  that  base  and  foolish  aa 
they  are  on  such  lips,  it  is  possible  to  lift  them  from  the 
mud,  and  ^e  them  as  the  utterance  of  a  lofty  and  calm 


i88  CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  t\S^KV., 

hope  which  will  not  be  disappointed,  and  of  a  firm  and 
lowly  resolve  which  may  ennoble  life.  Like  a  great  many 
other  sa)rings,  they  may  fit  the  mouth  either  of  a  sot  or  of 
a  saint  All  depends  on  what  the  things  are  which  we 
are  thinking  about  when  we  use  them.  There  are  things 
about  which  it  is  absurd  and  worse  than  absurd  to  say  this, 
and  there  are  things  about  which  it  is  the  soberest  truth 
to  say  it  So  looking  forward  into  the  merciful  darkness 
of  another  year,  we  may  look  at  these  words  as  either  the 
expressions  of  hopes  which  it  is  folly  to  cherish,  or  of 
hopes  that  it  is  reasonable  to  entertain. 

I,  This  expectation,  if  directed  to  any  outward  things, 
is  an  illusion  and  a  dream. 

These  coarse  revellers  into  whose  lips  our  text  is  put 
only  meant  by  it  to  brave  the  future  and  defy  to-morrow 
in  the  riot  of  their  drunkenness.  They  show  us  the  vul- 
garest,  lowest  form  which  the  expectation  can  take,  a  form 
which  I  need  say  nothing  about  now. 

But  I  may  just  note  in  passing  that  to  look  forward 
principally  to  anticipate  pleasure  or  enjoyment  is  a  very 
poor  and  unworthy  thing.  It  is  weakening  and  lowering 
every  day,  to  use  our  faculty  of  hope  mainly  to  paint  the 
future  as  a  scene  of  delights  and  satisfactions.  We  spoil 
to-day  by  thinking  how  we  can  turn  it  to  the  account  of 
pleasure.  We  spoil  to-morrow  before  it  comes,  and  hurt  our 
selves,  if  we  are  more  engaged  with  fancying  how  it  will 
minister  to  our  joy,  than  how  we  can  make  it  minister  to 
our  duty.  It  is  base  and  foolish  to  be  forecasting  our  plea- 
sures, the  true  temper  is  to  be  forecasting  our  work. 


X.]     CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  f  189 

But,  leaving  that  consideration,  let  us  notice  how  use- 
less such  anticipation,  and  how  mad  such  confidence,  as 
that  expressed  m  the  text  is,  if  directed  to  anything  short 
of  God. 

We  are  so  constituted  as  that  we  grow  into  a  persuasion 
that  what  has  been  will  be,  and  yet  we  can  give  no  suffi- 
cient reason  to  ourselves  of  why  we  expect  it 

"  The  uniformity  of  the  course  of  nature"  is  the  comer- 
stone,  not  only  of  physical  science,  but,  in  a  more  homely 
form,  of  the  wisdom  which  grows  with  experience.  We 
all  believe  that  the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow  because  it  rose 
to-day,  and  for  all  the  yesterdays.  But  there  was  a  to- 
day which  had  no  yesterday,  and  there  will  be  a  to-day 
which  will  have  no  to-morrow.  The  sun  will  rise  for  the 
last  time.  The  uniformity  had  a  beginning  and  will  have 
an  end. 

So,  even  as  an  axiom  of  thought,  the  anticipation  that 
things  will  continue  as  they  have  been  because  they  have 
been,  seems  to  rest  on  an  insufficient  basis.  How  much 
more  so,  as  to  our  own  little  hves  and  their  surroundings  ! 
There  the  only  thing  which  we  may  be  quite  sure  of  about 
to-morrow  is  that  it  will  not  be  "  as  this  day."  Even  for 
those  of  us  who  may  have  reached,  for  example,  the  level 
plateau  of  middle  life,  where  our  position  and  tasks  are 
pretty  well  fixed,  and  we  have  little  more  to  expect  than 
the  monotonous  repetition  of  the  same  duties  recurring  at 
the  same  hour  every  day — even  for  such  each  day  has  its 
own  distinctive  character.  Like  a  flock  of  sheep  they  seem 
4II  alike,  but  each,  on  closer  inspection,  reveals  a  physiog- 
nomy of  iu  own.     There  will  be  so  many  small  changes 


190  CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORRO  W  t  [serm. 

that  even  the  same  duties  or  enjoyments  will  not  be  quite 
the  same,  and  even  if  the  outward  things  remained  abso- 
lutely unaltered,  we  who  meet  them  are  not  the  same. 
Little  variations  in  mood  and  tone,  diminished  zest  here, 
weakened  power  there,  other  thoughts  breaking  in,  and 
over  and  above  all  the  slow  silent  change  wrought  on  us 
by  growing  years,  make  the  perfect  reproduction  of  any 
part  impossible.  So,  however  familiar  may  be  the  road 
we  have  to  traverse,  however  uneventfully  the  same  our 
days  may  sometimes  for  long  spaces  in  our  lives  seem  to 
be,  though  to  ourselves  often  our  day's  work  may  appear 
a  mill-horse  round,  yet  in  deepest  truth,  if  we  take  into 
account  the  whole  sum  of  the  minute  changes  in  it  and  in 
OS,  it  may  be  said  of  each  step  of  our  journey,  "  Ye  have 
not  passed  this  way  heretofore.** 

But,  besides  all  this,  we  know  that  these  breathing-times 
when  "  we  have  no  changes,**  are  but  pauses  in  the  storm, 
landing-places  in  the  ascent,  the  interspaces  between  the 
shocks.  However  hope  may  tempt  us  to  dream  that  the 
future  is  like  the  present,  a  deeper  wisdom  lies  in  all  our 
souls  which  says  No.  Drunken  bravery  may  front  that 
darkness  with  such  words  as  these  of  our  text,  but  the 
least  serious  spirit,  in  its  most  joyous  moods,  never  quite 
succeeds  in  forgetting  the  solemn  probabilities,  possibili- 
ties, and  certainties  which  lodge  in  the  unknown  future. 
So  to  a  wise  man  it  is  ever  a  sobering  exercise  to  look 
forward,  and  we  shall  be  nearest  the  truth  if  we  take  due 
account,  as  we  do  so  to-day,  of  the  undoubted  fact  that 
the  only  thing  certain  about  to-morrow  is  that  it  will  not 
be  M  tiiif  daf. 


X.]     CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW 9  191 

There  are  the  great  changes  which  come  to  some  one 
every  day,  which  may  come  to  any  of  us  any  day,  which 
will  come  to  all  of  us  some  day.  Some  of  us  will  die 
this  year ;  on  a  day  in  our  new  diaries  some  of  us  will 
make  no  entry,  for  we  shall  be  gone.  Some  of  us  will 
be  smitten  down  by  illness;  some  of  us  will  lose  our 
dearest;  some  of  us  will  lose  fortune.  Which  of  us 
it  is  to  be,  and  where  within  these  twelve  months  the 
blow  is  to  fall,  is  mercifully  hidden.  The  only  thing  that 
we  certainly  know  is  that  these  arrows  will  fly.  The 
thing  we  do  not  know  is  whose  heart  they  will  pierce. 
This  makes  the  gaze  into  the  darkness  grave  and  solemn. 
There  is  ever  something  of  dread  in  Hope's  blue  eyes. 
True,  the  ministry  of  change  is  blessed  and  helpful ;  true, 
the  darkness  which  hides  the  future  is  merciful,  and  need- 
ful if  the  present  is  not  to  be  marred.  Bit  helpful  and 
merciful  as  they  are,  they  invest  the  unknown  to-morrow 
with  a  solemn  power  which  it  is  good,  though  sobering, 
for  us  to  feel,  and  they  silence  on  every  lip  but  that  of 
riot  and  foolhardy  debauchery  the  presumptuous  words, 
*'  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more  abun- 
dant* 

IL  But  yet  there  is  a  possibility  of  so  using  the  words 
as  to  make  them  the  utterance  of  a  sober  certainty  which 
will  not  be  put  to  shame. 

So  long  as  our  hope  and  anticipations  creep  along  the 
low  levels  of  earth,  and  are  concerned  with  external  and 
crcatural  good,  their  language  can  never  rise  beyond, 
**  To-morrow  may  be  as  this  day."    Oftenest  it  reaches 


192  CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROIV  f\sis.KyL. 

only  to  the  height  of  the  wistful  wish,  "  May  it  be  as  this 
day  I "  But  there  is  no  need  for  our  being  tortured  with 
such  shppery  possibilities.  We  may  send  out  our  hope 
like  Noah's  dove,  not  to  hover  restlessly  over  a  heaving 
ocean  of  change,  but  to  light  on  firm,  solid,  certainty 
and  fold  its  wearied  wings  there.  Forecasting  is  ever 
close  by  foreboding.  Hope  is  interwoven  with  fear,  the 
golden  threads  of  the  weft  crossing  the  dark  ones  of  the 
warp,  and  the  whole  texture  gleaming  bright  or  glooming 
black  according  to  the  angle  at  which  it  is  seen. 

So  is  it  always  until  we  turn  our  hope  away  from  earth 
to  God,  and  fill  the  future  with  the  light  of  His  presence 
and  the  certainty  of  His  truth.  Then  the  mists  and 
doubts  roll  away ;  we  get  above  the  region  of  "  per- 
hapses  "  into  that  of  "  surelys  ; "  the  future  is  as  certain 
as  the  past :  hope  as  assured  of  its  facts  as  memory, 
prophecy  as  veracious  as  history. 

Looking  forward  then,  let  us  not  occupy  ourselves 
with  visions  which  we  know  may  or  may  not  come  true. 
Let  us  not  feed  ourselves  with  illusions  which  may  make 
the  reality,  when  it  comes  to  shatter  them,  yet  harder 
to  bear.  But  let  us  make  God  in  Christ  our  hope,  and 
pass  from  peradventures  to  certitudes  ;  from  "  To-morrow 
may  be  as  this  day — ^would  that  it  might,"  to  "  It  shall 
be,  it  shall  be,  for  God  is  my  expectation  and  my 
hope." 

We  have  an  unchanging  and  an  inexhaustible  God, 
and  He  is  the  true  guarantee  of  the  future  for  us.  The 
more  we  accustom  ourselves  to  think  of  Him  as  shaping 
all  that  is  contingent  and  changeful  in  the  nearest  and 


X.]     CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW f    193 

in  the  remotest  to-morrow,  and  as  being  Himself  the 
immutable  portion  of  our  souls,  the  calmer  will  be  our 
outlook  into  the  darkness,  and  the  more  bright  will  be 
the  clear  light  of  certainty  which  bums  for  us  in  it. 

To-da/s  wealth  may  be  to-morrow's  poverty,  to-day's 
health  to-morrow's  sickness,  to-day's  happy  companion- 
ship of  love  to-morrow's  aching  solitude  of  heart,  but 
to-day's  God  will  be  to-morrow's  God,  to-day's  Christ 
will  be  to-morrow's  Christ  Other  fountains  may  dry  up 
in  heat  or  freeze  in  winter,  but  this  knows  no  change, 
**  in  summer  and  winter  it  shall  be."  Other  fountains 
may  sink  low  in  their  basins  after  much  drawing,  but  this 
is  ever  full,  and  after  a  thousand  generations  have  drawn 
from  it  iU  stream  is  broad  and  deep  as  erer.  Other 
fountains  may  be  left  behind  on  the  march,  and  the  wells 
and  palm-trees  of  each  EUim  on  our  road  be  succeeded 
by  a  dry  and  thirsty  land  where  no  water  is,  but  this 
spring  follows  us  all  through  the  wilderness,  and  makes 
music  and  spreads  freshness  ever  by  our  path.  We  can 
forecast  nothing  beside.  We  can  be  sure  of  this,  that 
God  will  be  with  us  in  all  the  days  that  lie  before  us. 
What  may  be  round  the  next  headland  we  know  not; 
but  this  we  know,  that  the  same  sunshine  will  make  a 
broadening  path  across  the  waters  right  to  where  we 
rock  on  the  unknown  sea,  and  the  same  unmoving 
mighty  star  will  bum  for  our  guidance.  So  we  may  let 
the  waves  and  currents  roll  as  they  Ust — or  rather  as  He 
wills,  and  be  little  concerned  about  the  mcidents  or  the 
companions  of  our  voyage,  since  He  is  with  us.  We 
can  front  the  unknown  to-morrow,  even  when  we  moit 

• 


194  CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORRO  Wf  [serm. 

keenly  feel  how  tolenm  and  sad  are  the  things  it  may 
bring. 

''It  CMi  bring  with  it  nothing 
But  He  will  bear  u  through.** 

If  only  our  hearts  be  fixed  on  God  and  we  are  feeding 
our  minds  and  wills  on  Him,  His  truth  and  His  will, 
then  we  may  be  quite  certain  that,  whatever  goes,  our 
truest  riches  will  abide,  and  whoever  leaves  our  little 
company  of  loved  ones,  our  best  Friend  will  not  go 
away.  Therefore,  lifting  our  hopes  beyond  the  low 
levels  of  earth,  and  making  our  anticipations  of  the 
future  the  reflection  of  the  brightness  of  God  thrown  on 
that  else  blank  curtain,  we  may  turn  into  the  worthy 
utterance  of  sober  and  saintly  faith,  the  folly  of  the 
riotous  sensualist  when  he  said,  "  To-morrow  shall  be  as 
tills  day.* 

The  past  is  the  mirror  of  the  future  for  the  Christian  ; 
we  look  back  on  all  the  great  deeds  of  old  by  which  God 
has  redeemed  and  helped  souls  that  cried  to  Him,  and  we 
find  in  them  the  eternal  laws  of  His  working.  They  are 
all  true  for  to-day  as  they  were  at  first ;  they  remain  true 
for  ever.  The  whole  history  of  the  past  belongs  to  us, 
and  avails  for  our  present  and  for  our  future.  "  As  we 
have  heard,  so  have  we  seen  in  the  city  of  our  God.** 
To-day's  experience  runs  on  the  same  lines  as  the  stories 
of  the  "  years  of  old,"  which  are  "  the  years  of  the  right 
hand  of  the  Most  High."  Experience  is  ever  the  parent 
of  hopc>  and  the  latter  can  only  build  with  the  bricks 
which  the  former  gives.     So  the  Christian  has  to  lay 


X.]     CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW t    19$ 

hold  on  all  that  God's  mercy  has  done  to  the  ages  that 
arc  gone  by,  and  because  He  is  a  "  faithful  Creator  "  to 
transmute  history  into  prophecy,  and  triumph  in  that 
"  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge." 

Nor  only  does  the  record  of  what  He  has  been  to 
others  come  in  to  bring  material  for  our  forecast  of  the 
future,  but  also  the  remembrance  of  what*  He  has  been 
to  ourselves.  Has  He  been  with  us  in  six  troubles? 
We  may  be  sure  He  will  not  abandon  us  at  the  seventh. 
He  is  not  in  the  way  of  beginning  to  build  and  leaving 
His  work  unfinished  Remember  what  He  has  been  to 
you,  and  rejoice  that  there  has  been  one  thing  in  your 
lives  which,  you  may  be  sure,  will  always  be  there.  Feed 
your  certain  hopes  for  to-morrow  on  thankful  remem- 
brances of  many  a  yesterday.  "  Forget  not  the  works 
of  God,"  that  you  may  "  set  your  hopes  on  God."  Let 
our  anticipations  base  themselves  on  memory,  and  utter 
themselves  in  the  prayer,  "  Thou  hast  been  my  help ; 
leave  me  not,  neither  forsake  me,  O  God  of  my  salvation." 
Then  the  assurance  that  He  whom  we  know  to  be  good 
and  wise  and  strong  will  shape  the  future,  and  Himself 
be  the  future  for  us,  will  take  all  the  fear  out  of  that 
forward  gaze,  will  condense  our  light  and  unsubstantial 
hopes  into  solid  realities,  and  set  before  us  an  endless 
line  of  days,  in  each  of  which  we  may  gain  more  of  Him, 
whose  face  has  brightened  the  past  and  will  brighten  the 
future,  till  days  shall  end  and  time  shall  open  into 
eternity. 


196  CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  t  [serm. 


IIL  Looked  at  in  another  aspect,  these  words  may  be 
taken  as  the  row  of  a  firm  and  lowly  resolve. 

There  is  a  future  which  we  can  but  very  slightly  in- 
fluence, and  the  less  we  look  at  that  the  better  every  way. 
But  there  is  also  a  future  which  we  can  mould  as  we  wish 
—  the  future  of  our  own  characters,  the  only  future  which 
is  really  ours  at  all — and  the  more  clearly  we  set  it  before 
ourselves,  and  make  up  our  minds  as  to  whither  we  wish 
it  to  be  tending  the  better.  In  that  region,  it  is  eminently 
true  that  "  to-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more 
abundant"  The  law  of  continuity  shapes  our  moral  and 
spiritual  characters.  What  I  am  to-day,  I  shall  increas- 
ingly be  to  morrow.  The  awful  power  of  habit  solidifies 
actions  into  customs,  and  prolongs  the  reverberation  of 
every  note  once  sounded,  along  the  vaulted  roof  of  the 
chamber  where  we  live.  To-day  is  the  child  of  yesterday 
and  the  parent  of  to-morrow. 

That  solemn  certainty  of  the  continuance  and  increase 
of  moral  and  spiritual  characteristics  works  in  both  good 
and  bad,  but  with  a  difference.  To  secure  its  full 
blessing  in  the  gradual  development  of  the  germs  of  good 
there  must  be  constant  effort  and  tenacious  resolution. 
So  many  foes  beset  the  springing  of  the  good  seed  in 
our  hearts — what  with  the  flying  flocks  of  light-winged 
fugitive  thoughts  ever  ready  to  swoop  down  as  soon  as 
the  sower's  back  is  turned  and  snatch  it  away,  what  with  the 
hardness  of  the  rock  which  the  roots  soon  encounter,  what 
with  the  thick-sown  and  quick-springing  thorns — that  if 
we  trust  to  the  natural  laws  of  growth  and  neglect  our 


t]    CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW t    197 

careful  tending,  we  may  sow  much  but  we  shall  gather 
little.  But  to  inherit  the  full  consequences  of  that  same  law 
working  in  the  growth  and  development  of  the  evil  in  us 
nothing  is  needed  but  carelessness.  Leave  it  alone  for 
A  year  or  two  and  the  "  fruitful  field  will  be  a  forest,"  a 
jungle  of  matted  weeds,  with  a  struggling  blossom  where 
cultivation  had  once  been. 

But  if  humbly  we  resolve  and  earnestly  toil,  looking  for 
His  help,  we  may  venture  to  hope  that  our  characters  will 
grow  in  goodness  and  in  likeness  to  our  dear  Lord,  that 
we  shall  not  cast  away  our  confidence,  nor  make  ship- 
wreck of  our  faith,  that  each  new  day  shall  find  in  us  a 
deeper  love,  a  pcrfecter  consecration,  a  more  joyful  ser- 
vice, and  that  so,  in  all  the  beauties  of  the  Christian  soul 
and  in  all  the  blessings  of  the  Christian  life,  "  to-morrow 
shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more  abundant"  "To 
him  that  hath  shall  be  given,"  "  The  path  of  the  just  is 
as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth  more  and  more  until  the 
noon  tide  of  the  day." 

So  we  may  look  forward  undismayed,  and  while  we 
recognise  the  darkness  that  wraps  to-morrow  in  regard  to 
all  munda»e  affairs,  may  feed  our  fortitude  and  fasten  our 
confidence  on  the  double  certainties  that  we  shall  have 
God  and  more  of  God  for  our  treasure,  that  we  shall  have 
likeness  to  Him  and  more  of  likeness  in  our  characters. 
Fleeting  moments  may  come  and  go.  The  uncertain 
days  may  exercise  their  various  ministry  of  giving  and 
taking  away,  but  whether  they  plant  or  root  up  our  earthly 
props,  whether  they  build  or  destroy  our  earthly  houses, 
they  will  increase  our  riches  in  the  heavens,  and  give  uf 


198  CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW f  [serm. 

fuller  possession  of  deeper  draughts  from  the  inexhaustible 
fountain  of  living  waters. 

How  dreadfully  that  same  law  of  the  continuity  and 
development  of  character  works  in  some  men  there  is 
no  need  now  to  dwell  upon.  By  slow,  imperceptible, 
certain  degrees  the  evil  gains  upon  them.  Yesterday's 
sin  smooths  the  path  for  tcnia/s.  The  temptation  once 
yielded  to  gains  power.  The  crack  in  the  embankment 
which  lets  a  drop  or  two  ooze  through  is  soon  a  hole 
which  lets  out  a  flood.  It  is  easier  to  find  a  man  who  ha« 
done  a  wrong  thing  than  to  find  a  man  who  has  done  it 
only  once.  Peter  denied  his  Lord  thrice,  and  each  time 
more  easily  than  the  time  before.  So,  before  we  know  it, 
the  thin  gossamer  threads  of  single  actions  are  twisted 
into  a  rope  of  habit,  and  we  are  "  tied  with  the  cords  of 
our  sins."  Let  no  man  say,  "Just  for  once  I  may 
venture  on  evil ;  so  far  I  will  go  and  no  farther."  Nay, 
"to-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more 
abundant" 

How  important,  then,  the  smallest  acts  become  when 
we  think  of  them  as  thus  influencing  character  1  The 
microscopic  creatiires,  thousands  of  which  will  go  into  a 
square  inch,  make  the  great  white  cliffs  that  beetle  over 
the  wildest  sea  and  front  the  storm.  So,  permanent  and 
lolid  character  is  built  up  out  of  trivial  actions,  and  this 
is  the  solemn  aspect  of  our  passing  days,  that  they  are 
makmg  us. 

We  might  well  tremble  before  such  a  thought,  whick 
would  be  dreadful  to  the  best  of  us,  if  it  were  not  for 
pardoning   mercy  and    renewing   grace.    The  law    o^ 


X.]    CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW t    199 

reaping  what  we  have  sown,  or  of  continuing  as  we  have 
begun,  may  be  modified  as  far  as  our  sins  and  failures 
arc  concerned.  The  entail  may  be  cut  off,  and  to-morrow 
need  not  inherit  to-day's  guilt,  nor  to-day's  habits.  The 
past  may  be  all  blotted  out  through  the  mercy  of  God  iD 
Christ  No  debt  need  be  carried  forward  to  another  page 
of  the  book  of  our  lives,  for  Christ  has  given  Himself  for 
js,  and  He  speaks  to  us  all — "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee." 
No  evil  habit  need  continue  its  dominion  over  us,  nor  are 
^e  obhged  to  carry  on  the  bad  tradition  of  wrong-doing 
into  a  future  day,  for  Christ  lives,  and  "  if  any  man  be  in 
Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature ;  old  things  are  passed  away, 
all  things  are  become  new." 

So  then,  brethren,  let  us  humbly  take  the  confidence 
which  these  words  may  be  used  to  express,  and  as  we 
stand  on  the  threshold  of  a  new  year  and  wait  for  the 
curtain  to  be  drawn,  let  us  print  deep  on  our  hearts  the 
uncertainty  of  our  hold  of  all  things  here,  nor  seek  t© 
build  nor  anchor  on  these,  but  lift  our  thoughts  to  Him, 
who  will  bless  the  future  as  He  has  blessed  the  past,  and 
will  even  enlarge  the  gifts  of  his  love  and  the  help  of  his 
right  hand.  Let  us  hope  for  ourselves  not  the  continuance 
or  increase  of  outward  good,  but  the  growth  of  our  souls 
in  all  things  lovely  and  of  good  report,  the  daily  advance 
in  the  love  and  likeness  of  our  Lord. 

So  each  day,  each  succeeding  wave  of  the  ocean  of 
time  shall  cast  up  treasures  for  us  as  it  breaks  at  our 
feet 

As  we  grow  in  years,  we  shall  grow  in  the  grace  and 
knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  n&til 


200  CAN  WE  MAKE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  t  [ser.  x. 

the  day  comes  when  we  shall  exchange  earth  for  heavea 
That  will  be  the  sublimest  application  of  this  text,  when, 
dying,  we  can  calmly  be  sure  that  though  to-day  be  on  this 
side  and  to-morrow  on  the  other  bank  of  the  black  river, 
there  will  be  no  break  in  the  continuity,  but  only  an 
infinite  growth  in  our  life,  and  heaven's  to-morrow  shall 
be  as  earth's  to-day,  and  much  more  abundant 


SERMON   XL 


THE   SOLITARINESS   OF   CHRIST    IN    HIS 
TEMPTATIONS. 

St,  Luke  xxii.  28. 
Ye  are  they  which  have  continued  with  me  in  my  temptations. 


w 


/E  wonder  at  the  disciples  when  we  read  of  the  nn- 
seemly  strife  for  precedence  which  jars  on  the 
tender  solemnities  of  the  Last  Supper.  We  think  them 
itrangely  unsympathetic  and  selfish ;  and  so  they  were. 
But  do  not  let  us  be  too  hard  on  them,  nor  forget  that 
there  was  a  very  natural  reason  for  the  close  connection 
which  is  found  in  the  gospels  between  our  Lord's  an- 
nouncements of  His  sufferings  aad  this  eager  dispute  as  to 
who  should  be  the  greatest  in  the  kingdom.  They  dimly 
understood  what  He  meant,  but  they  did  understand  this 
much,  that  His  *'  suflferings  "  were  immediately  to  precede 
His  "  glory  " — and  so  it  is  not,  after  all,  to  be  so  much 
wondered  at  if  the  apparent  approach  of  these  made  the 
settlement  of  their  places  in  the  impending  kingdom  seem 
to  them  a  very  pressing  question.  We  should  probably 
have  thought  so  too,  if  we  had  been  among  tiiem. 

Perhaps,  too,  the  immediate  occasion  of  this  strife  who 


2oa  THE  SOLITARINESS  OF  CHRIST     [smM. 

should  be  accounted  the  greatest,  which  drew  from  Christ 
the  words  of  our  text,  may  have  been  the  unwillingness  of 
each  to  injure  his  possible  claim  to  pre-eminence  by  doing 
the  servant's  tasks  at  the  modest  meal.  May  we  not 
suppose  that  the  basin  and  the  towel  were  refused  by  one 
after  another,  with  muttered  words  growing  louder  and 
angrier  ;  **  It  is  not  my  place,"  says  Peter ;  "  you,  Andrew, 
take  it" — and  so  from  hand  to  hand  it  goes,  till  the 
Master  ends  the  strife  and  takes  it  Himself  to  wash  their 
feet  Then,  when  He  had  sat  down  again.  He  may  have 
spoken  the  words  of  which  our  text  is  part — in  which  He 
tells  the  wrangling  disciples  what  is  the  true  law  of 
honour  in  His  kingdom,  namely,  service^  and  points  to 
Himself  as  the  great  example.  With  what  emphasis  the 
pathetic  incident  of  the  foot-washing  invests  the  clause 
before  our  text :  "  I  am  among  you  as  he  that  serveth." 
On  that  disclosure  of  the  true  law  of  pre-eminence  in  His 
kingdom  there  follows  in  this  and  following  verses  the 
assurance,  that,  unseemly  as  their  strife,  there  was  re- 
ward for  them,  and  places  of  dignity  there,  because  in  all 
their  selfishness  and  infirmity,  they  had  still  clung  to 
their  Master. 

This  being  the  original  purpose  of  these  words,  I  venture 
to  use  them  for  another.  They  give  us,  if  I  mistake  not, 
a  wonderful  glimpse  into  the  heart  of  Christ,  and  a  most 
pathetic  revelation  of  His  thoughts  and  experiences,  all 
the  more  precious  because  it  is  quite  incidental  and,  we 
may  say,  unconscioua. 


XI.]  IN  HIS  TEMPTATIONS,  S03 


L  See  then,  here,  th^  tempttd  Christ 

In  one  sense,  our  Lord  is  His  own  perpetual  theme. 
He  is  ever  speaking  of  Himself,  inasmuch  as  He  is  ever 
presenting  what  He  is  to  us,  and  what  He  claims  Of  us. 
In  another  sense,  He  scarcely  ever  speaks  of  Himself, 
Inasmuch  as  deep  silence,  for  the  most  part,  lies  over  His 
own  inward  experiences.  How  precious,  therefore,  and 
how  profoundly  significant  is  that  word  here — "in  My 
temptations  "  1  So  He  summed  up  all  his  life.  To  feel 
the  full  force  of  the  expression,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  the  temptation  in  the  wUdemess  was  past  before  His 
first  disciple  attached  himself  to  Him,  and  that  the  conflict 
in  Gethsemane  had  not  yet  come  when  these  words  were 
spoken.  The  period  to  which  they  refer,  therefore,  lies 
altogether  within  these  limits,  including  neither.  After 
the  former,  "  Satan,"  we  read,  "  departed  from  Him  for 
a  season."  Before  the  latter,  we  read,  "  the  prince  of 
this  world  cometh."  The  space  between,  of  which  people 
are  so  apt  to  think  as  free  from  temptation,  is  the  time  of 
which  our  Lord  is  speaking  now.  The  time  when  His 
followers  "  companied  with  Him "  is  to  His  conscious- 
ness the  time  of  His  "  temptations." 

That  is  not  the  point  of  view  from  which  the  Gospel 
narratives  present  it,  for  the  plain  reason  that  they  are 
not  autobiographies,  and  that  Jesus  said  little  about  the 
continuous  assaults  to  which  He  was  exposed.  It  is 
not  the  point  of  riew  from  which  we  often  think  of  it 
We  are  too  apt  to  conceive  of  Christ's  temptations  as  all 
gathered  together — curdled  and  clotted,  as  it  were,  at  the 


304  THE  SOLITARINESS  OF  CHRIST     [serm. 

two  ends  of  His  life,  leaving  the  space  between  free.  But 
we  cannot  understand  the  meaning  of  that  life,  nor  feel 
aright  the  love  and  help  that  breathe  from  it,  unless  we 
think  of  it  as  a  field  of  continual  and  diversified  temptations. 

How  remarkable  is  the  choice  of  the  expresiion  !  To 
Christ,  His  life,  looking  back  on  it,  does  not  so  much 
present  itself  in  the  aspect  of  sorrow,  difficulty  or  pain,  as 
in  that  of  temptation.  He  looked  upon  all  outward  things 
mainly  with  regard  to  their  power  to  help  or  to  hinder 
His  life's  work.  So  for  us,  sorrow  or  joy  should  mattei 
comparatively  little.  The  evil  in  the  evil  should  be  felt 
to  be  sin,  and  the  true  cross  and  burden  of  life  should  be 
to  us,  as  to  our  Master,  the  appeals  it  makes  to  us  to 
abandon  our  tasks,  and  fling  away  our  filial  dependance 
and  submission. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  plunge  into  the  thorny  ques- 
tions which  surround  the  thought  of  the  tempted  Christ 
However  these  may  be  solved,  the  great  fact  remains, 
that  His  temptations  were  most  real  and  unceasing.  It 
was  no  sham  fight  which  He  fought  The  story  of  the 
wilderness  is  the  story  of  a  most  real  conflict ;  and  that 
conflict  is  waged  all  through  his  life.  True,  the  traces 
of  it  arc  few.  The  battle  was  fought  on  both  sides  in 
grim  silence,  as  sometimes  men  wage  a  mortal  struggle 
without  a  sound.  But  if  there  were  no  other  witness 
of  the  sore  conflict,  the  Victor's  shout  at  the  close  would 
be  enough.  His  last  words,  "  I  have  overcome  the 
world,"  sound  the  note  of  triumph,  and  tell  how  sharp 
had  been  the  strife.  So  long  and  hard  had  it  been  that 
He  cannot  forget  it  even  in  heaven,  and  from  the  throne 


XI.]  IN  HIS  TEMPTATIONS.  305 


holds  forth  to  all  the  churches  the  hope  of  overcoming, 
"even  as  I  also  overcame."  As  on  some  battle-field 
whence  all  traces  of  the  agony  and  fury  have  passed 
away,  and  harvests  wave,  and  larks  sing  where  blood  ran 
and  men  groaned  their  lives  out,  some  grey  stone  raised 
by  the  victors  remains,  and  only  the  trophy  tells  of  the 
forgotten  fight,  so  that  monumental  word,  "  I  have  over- 
come" stands  to  all  ages  as  the  record  of  the  silent,  life- 
long conflict. 

It  is  not  for  us  to  know  how  the  sinless  Christ  wat 
tempted.  There  are  depths  beyond  our  reach.  This  we 
can  understand,  that  a  sinless  manhood  is  not  above  the 
reach  of  temptation ;  and  this  besides,  that,  to  such  a 
nature,  the  temptations  must  be  suggested  from  with- 
out, not  presented  from  within.  The  desire  for  food  is 
simply  a  physical  craving,  but  another  personality  than 
His  own  uses  it  to  incite  the  Son  to  abandon  dependence 
for  his  physical  life  on  God,  The  trust  in  God's  pro- 
tection is  holy  and  good,  and  it  may  be  truest  wisdom 
and  piety  to  incur  danger  in  dependence  on  it,  when 
God's  service  calls,  but  a  mocking  voice  without  suggests, 
under  the  cloak  of  it,  a  needless  rushing  into  peril  at  no 
call  of  conscience,  and  for  no  end  of  mercy,  which  is  not 
religion  but  self-wilL  The  desire  to  have  the  world  for 
His  own  lay  in  Christ's  deepest  heart,  but  the  enemy  of 
Christ  and  man,  who  thought  the  world  his  already,  used 
it  as  giving  occasion  to  suggest  a  smoother  and  shorter 
road  to  win  all  men  unto  Him  than  the  "  Via  dolorosa  * 
of  the  Cross.  So  the  sinless  Christ  was  tempted  at  the 
beginning,  and   so   the   sinless   Christ  was   tempted,  in 


2o6  THE  SOLITARINESS  OF  CHRIST     [serm. 

yarious  fomis  of  these  first  temptations,  throughout  His 
life.  The  path  which  He  had  to  tread  was  ever  before 
Him,  the  shadow  of  the  Cross  was  flung  along  His  road 
from  the  first.  The  pain  and  sorrow,  the  shame  and 
spitting,  the  contradiction  of  sinners  against  Himself,  the 
easier  path  which  needed  but  a  wish  to  become  His,  the 
shrinking  of  flesh — all  these  made  their  appeal  to  Him,  and 
every  step  of  the  path  which  He  trod  for  us  was  trodden 
by  the  power  of  a  fresh  consecration  of  Himself  to  His 
task  and  a  fresh  victory  over  temptation. 

Let  us  not  seek  to  analyse.  Let  us  be  content  to 
worship,  as  we  look.  Let  us  think  of  the  tempted  Christ, 
that  our  conceptions  of  His  sinlessness  may  be  increased. 
His  was  no  untried  and  cloistered  virtue,  pure  because 
never  brought  into  contact  with  seducing  evil,  but  a 
militant  and  victorious  goodness,  that  was  able  to  with- 
stand in  the  evil  day.  Let  us  think  of  the  tempted  Christ 
that  our  thankful  thoughts  of  what  He  bore  for  us  may  be 
warmer  and  more  adequate,  as  we  stand  afar  oflf  and  look 
on  at  the  mystery  of  His  battle  with  our  enemies  and  His. 
Let  us  think  of  the  tempted  Christ  to  make  the  lighter 
burden  of  our  cross,  and  our  less  terrible  conflict  easier 
to  bear  and  to  wage.  So  will  He  "  continue  with  us  in 
our  temptations,"  and  patience  and  yictory  flow  to  ui 
from  Him. 

IL  See  here  the  lonely  Christ 

There  is  no  aspect  of  our  Lord's  life  more  pathetic 
than  that  of  His  profound  loneliness.  I  suppose  the  most 
utterly  solitary  man  that  ever  lived  was  Jesus  Christ     I 


XL]  IN  HIS  TEMPTATIONS.  ao; 

we  think  of  the  facts  of  His  life,  we  see  how  His  nearest 
kindred  stood  aloof  from  Him,  how  "  there  were  none  to 
praise,  and  very  few  to  love ; "  and  how,  even  in  the 
small  company  of  His  friends,  there  were  absolutely  none 
who  either  understood  Him  or  sympathised  with  Him. 
We  hear  a  great  deal  about  the  solitude  in  which  men  ot 
genius  live,  and  how  all  great  souls  are  necessarily  lonely. 
That  is  true,  and  that  solitude  of  great  men  is  one  of  the 
compensations  which  run  through  all  life,  and  make  the 
lot  of  the  many  little,  more  enviable  than  that  of  the  few 
great  "  The  little  hills  rejoice  together  on  every  side," 
but  far  above  their  smiling  companionships,  the  alpine 
peak  lifts  itself  into  the  cold  air,  and  though  it  be 
"  visited  all  night  by  troops  of  stars,"  is  lonely  amid  the 
silence  and  the  snow.  Talk  of  the  solitude  of  pure 
character  amid  evil,  like  Lot  in  Sodom,  or  of  the  loneli- 
ness of  uncomprehended  aims  and  unshared  thoughts — 
who  ever  experienced  that  as  keenly  as  Christ  did? 
That  perfect  purity  must  needs  have  been  hurt  by  the 
sin  of  men  as  none  else  have  ever  been.  That  loving 
heart  yearning  for  the  solace  of  an  answering  heart  must 
needs  have  felt  a  sharper  pang  of  unrequited  love  than 
ever  pained  another.  That  Spirit  to  which  the  things 
that  are  seen  were  shadows,  and  the  Father  and  the 
Father's  house  the  ever-present,  only  realities,  must  have 
felt  itself  parted  from  the  men  whose  portion  was  in  this 
life  by  a  gulf  broader  than  ever  o[)encd  between  any 
other  two  souls  that  shared  together  human  life. 

The  more  pure  and  lofty  a  nature,  the  more  keen  its 
sensitiveness,  the  more  exquisite  its   delights,  and  the 


2ot  THE  SOLITARINESS  OF  CHRIST    [SERM. 

sharper  Its  pains.  The  more  loving  and  unselfish  a  heart 
the  more  its  longing  for  companionship :  and  the  more 
its  aching  in  loneliness. 

Very  significant  and  pathetic  are  many  points  in  the 
Gospel  story  bearing  on  this  matter.  The  very  choice  of 
the  twelve  had  for  its  first  purpose,  "  that  they  should  be 
with  Him,"  as  one  of  the  evangelists  tells  us.  We  know 
how  constantly  He  took  the  three  who  were  nearest  to 
Him  along  with  Him,  and  that  surely  not  merely  that 
they  might  be  "eyewitnesses  of  His  majesty"  on  the 
holy  mount,  or  of  His  agony  in  Gethsemane,  but  as  having 
a  real  gladness  and  strength  even  in  their  companionship 
amid  the  mystery  of  glory  as  amid  the  power  of  darkness. 
We  read  of  His  being  alone  but  twice  in  all  the  gospels, 
and  both  times  for  prayer.  And  surely  the  dullest  ear 
can  hear  a  note  of  pain  in  that  prophetic  word  :  "  The 
hour  cometh  that  ye  shall  be  scattered,  every  man  to  his 
own,  and  shall  leave  Me  alone ; "  while  every  heart  must 
feel  the  pitiful  pathos  of  the  plea,  "  Tarry  ye  here,  and 
watch  witii  Me."  Even  in  that  supreme  hour,  He  longs 
for  human  companionship,  however  uncomprehending, 
and  stretches  out  His  hands  in  the  great  darkness,  to  feel 
the  touch  of  a  hand  of  flesh  and  blood — and,  alas,  for  poor 
feeble  love  ! — He  gropes  for  it  in  vain.  Surely  that  horror 
of  utter  solitude  is  one  of  the  elements  of  His  passion 
grave  and  sorrowful  enough  to  be  named  by  the  side  of 
the  other  bitterness  poured  into  that  cup,  even  as  it  was 
pain  enough  to  form  a  substantive  feature  of  the  great 
prophetic  picture :  "  I  looked  for  some  to  take  pity,  but 
there  was  none ;  and  for  comforters,  but  I  found  none." 


XL]  IN  HIS  TEMPTATIONS.  909 

So  here,  a  deep  pain  in  His  loneliness  is  implied  in 
these  words  of  our  text  which  put  the  disciples'  partici- 
pation in  the  glories  of  His  throne  as  the  issue  of  their 
loyal  continuance  with  Him  in  the  conflict  of  earth. 
These,  and  these  only,  had  been  by  His  side,  and  so  much 
does  He  care  for  their  companionship,  that  therefore  they 
shall  share  His  dominion. 

That  lonely  Christ  sympathises  with  all  solitary  hearts. 
If  ever  we  feel  ourselves  misunderstood  and  thrown 
back  upon  ourselves;  if  ever  our  hearts'  burden  of 
lore  is  rejected;  if  our  outward  lives  be  lonely  ind 
earth  yields  nothing  to  stay  our  longing  for  companion- 
ship ;  if  our  hearts  have  been  filled  with  dear  ones  and 
are  now  empty,  or  but  filled  with  tears,  let  us  think  of 
Him  and  say,  "Yet  I  am  not  alone."  He  lived  alone, 
alone  He  died,  that  no  heart  might  ever  be  solitary  any 
more.  "  Could  ye  not  watch  with  Me  t "  was  His  gentle 
rebuke  in  Gethsemane.  "  Lo,  /  am  with  you  always,"  is 
His  mighty  promise  fi"om  the  throne.  In  every  step  of 
life  we  may  have  Him  for  a  companion,  a  friend  closer 
than  all  others,  nearer  us  than  our  very  selves,  if  we  may 
so  say — and  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  we  need 
fear  no  evil,  for  He  will  be  with  us. 

III.  ^t\i^xt  the  grateful  ChrisU 

I  almost  hesitate  to  use  the  word,  but  there  seems  a 
distinct  ring  of  thanks  in  the  expression,  and  in  the 
connection-  And  we  need  not  wonder  at  that,  if  we 
rightly  understand  it  There  is  nothing  in  it  inconsistent 
with  our  Lord't  character  and  relations  to  His  disdplet. 

r 


2IO  THE  SOLITARINESS  OF  CHRIST     [serm. 

Do  you  remember  another  instance  in  which  one  seems 
to  hear  the  same  tone,  namely,  in  the  marked  warmth 
with  which  He  acknowledges  the  beautiful  service  of 
Mary  in  breaking  the  fragrant  casket  of  nard  upon  his 
head  ? 

All  true  love  is  glad  when  it  is  met,  glad  to  give,  and 
glad  to  receive.  Was  it  not  a  joy  to  Jesus  to  be  waited 
on  by  the  ministering  woman  ?  Would  He  not  thank 
them  because  they  served  Him  for  love  ?  I  trow,  yes. 
And  if  any  one  stumbles  at  the  word  "  grateful "  as  applied 
to  Him,  we  do  not  care  about  tlie  word  so  long  as  it  is 
seen  mat  His  heart  was  gladdened  by  loving  friends,  and 
that  He  recognised  in  their  society  a  ministry  of  love. 

Notice,  too,  the  loving  estimate  of  what  these  disciples 
had  done.  Their  companionship  had  been  imperfect 
enough  at  the  best.  They  had  given  Him  but  blind 
affection,  dashed  with  much  selfishness.  In  an  hour  or 
two  they  would  all  have  forsaken  Him  and  fled.  He 
knew  all  that  was  lacking  in  them,  and  the  cowardly 
abandonment  which  was  so  near.  But  He  has  not  a 
word  to  say  of  all  this.  He  does  not  count  jealously  the 
flaws  in  our  work^  or  reject  it  because  it  is  incomplete. 
So  here  is  the  great  truth  clearly  set  forth,  that  where 
there  is  a  loving  heart,  there  is  acceptable  service.  It  is 
possible  that  our  poor,  imperfect  deeds  shall  be  an  odour 
of  a  sweet  smell,  acceptable,  well-pleasing  to  Him. 
Which  of  us  that  is  a  father  is  not  glad  at  his  children's 
gifts,  even  though  they  be  purchased  with  his  own  money, 
and  be  of  little  use?  They  mean  love,  so  they  are 
precious.     And  Christ,  in  Hke  manner,  gladly  accepts 


XI.1  IN  HIS  TEMPTATIONS,  an 

what  we  bring,  even  though  it  be  love  chilled  by  selfish- 
ness, and  faith  broken  by  doubt,  and  submission  crossed 
by  self-wiU.  The  living  heart  of  the  disciples'  acceptable 
service  was  their  love,  far  less  intelligent  and  entire  than 
ours  may  be.  They  were  joined  to  their  Lord,  though 
with  but  partial  sympathy  and  knowledge,  in  His  tempta- 
tions. It  is  possible  for  us  to  be  joined  to  Jesus  Christ 
more  closely  and  more  truly  than  they  were  during  His 
earthly  hfe.  Union  with  Him  here  is  union  with  Him 
hereafter.  If  we  abide  in  Him  amid  the  shows  and 
shadows  of  earth,  He  will  continue  with  us  in  our  tempta- 
tions, and  so  the  fellowship  begun  on  earth  will  be  per- 
fected in  heaven  :  "  If  so  be  that  we  suffer  with  Him,  that 
we  may  also  be  glorified  togethec* 


SERMON   XII. 

THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION. 

Isaiah  ziL  3. 
With  joy  shall  ye  draw  water  out  of  the  wells  of  salratioB. 

'X'WO  events,  separated  from  each  other  by  fifteen 
"■■  hundred  years^  bear  upon  these  words.  One  wag 
the  origin  of  the  peculiar  form  of  this  prophecy,  the  othei 
contains  its  interpretation  and  claims  to  be  its  fulfil- 
ment 

The  wandering  march  of  the  children  of  Israel  had 
brought  them  to  Rephidim,  where  there  was  no  water. 
Their  parched  lips  opened  to  murmur  and  rebel  against 
their  unseen  Leader  and  his  visible  lieutenant  At  his 
wits'  end,  Moses  cried  to  God,  and  the  answer  is  the 
command  to  take  with  him  the  elders  of  Israel,  and  with 
his  rod  in  his  hand  to  go  up  to  Horeb ;  and  then  come 
grand  words,  "  Behold,  I  will  stand  before  thee  there  upon 
the  rock,  and  thou  shalt  smite  the  rock,  and  there  shall 
come  water  out  of  it"  It  is  not  the  rock,  nor  the  rod, 
nor  the  uphfted  hand,  but  it  is  the  presence  of  God  which 
makes  the  sparkling  streams  pour  out.  How  the  thirsty 
men  would  drink,  how  gladly  they  would  fling  themselvei 


SKRM.  xiL]     THE  WELLS  OF  SAL  VA  TION.  S13 

on  the  ground  and  glue  their  lipi  to  the  glandng  bleising 
or  dip  their  cupi  and  skins  into  it,  as  it  flashed 
along  ! 

Many  a  psalm  and  prophecy  refer  to  this  old  story, 
and  clearly  Isaiah  has  it  in  his  mind  here,  for  the  whole 
context  is  full  of  allusions  to  the  history  of  the  Exodus, 
as  a  symbol  of  the  better  deliverance  from  a  worse 
bondage,  which  the  "  Root  of  Jesse  "  was  to  eflfect  The 
lyric  burst  of  praise,  of  which  the  text  is  part,  carries  on 
the  same  allusion.  The  joyful  band  of  pilgrims  returning 
from  this  captivity  sing  the  '  Song  of  Moses,"  chanted 
first  by  the  banks  of  the  Red  Sea,  "  The  Lord  is  my 
strength  and  song,  and  he  is  become  my  salvation." 
This  distinct  quotation,  which  immediately  precedes  our 
text,  makes  the  reference  in  it  which  we  have  pointed 
out,  most  probable  and  natural. 

The  connection  of  these  words  with  the  story  in  the 
Exodus  was  recognised  by  the  Jews  at  a  very  early  period, 
as  is  plain  from  their  use  in  the  remarkable  ritual  of  the 
Feast  of  Tabernacles.  That  festival  was  originally  ap- 
pointed to  preserve  the  remembrance  of  Israel's  nomad 
life  in  the  wilderness.  In  the  later  days  of  the  nation,  a 
number  of  symbolical  observances  were  added  to  those  of 
the  original  institution.  Daily,  amidst  loud  jubilations, 
the  priests  wound  in  long  procession  down  the  slope  from 
the  Temple  to  the  fountain  of  Siloam  in  the  valley  be- 
neath, and  there  drew  water  in  golden  urns.  They  bore 
it  back,  the  crowd  surging  around  them,  and  then  amidst 
the  blast  of  trumpets  and  a  tumult  of  rejoicing,  they 
poured  it  or  the  altar,  while  tkoiuands  of  voices  chanted 


214  THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION.        [serm 

Isaiah's  words,  "  With  joy  shall  ye  draw  water  out  of  the 
wells  of  salvation." 

So  much  for  the  occasion  of  the  prophecy,  now  for 
its  meaning  and  fulfilment  Nearly  eight  hundred  years 
have  passed.  Again  the  festival  has  come  round  For 
seven  days  the  glad  ceremonial  had  been  performed 
For  the  last  time  the  priestly  procession  has  gone  down 
the  rocky  road;  for  the  last  time  the  vases  have  been 
filled  at  the  cool  fountain  below;  for  the  last  time  the 
bright  water  has  been  poured  out  sparkling  in  the  sun- 
light ;  for  the  last  time  the  shout  of  joy  has  risen  and 
(alien,  and  as  the  words  of  the  ancient  chant  were  dying 
on  the  ear,  a  sudden  stir  began  among  the  crowd,  ayul 
6*0011  the  midst  of  them,  as  they  parted  for  his  passage, 
came  a  yoimg  man,  rustic  in  appearance,  and  there,  before 
all  the  silence-stricken  multitude,  and  priests  with  their 
empty  urns,  "  In  the  last  day,  that  great  day  of  the  feast, 
Jesus  stood  and  cried.  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come 
nnto  me,"  and  drink.  Surely  such  words,  in  such  a  con- 
nection, at  such  a  time,  from  such  Ups,  are  meant  to 
point  the  path  to  the  true  understanding  of  the  text 

So  then,  consider  what  we  have  to  understand  by  thi 
wells  of  salvation. 

We  are  not  to  be  content  with  any  shallow  and  narrow 
interpretation  of  either  idea  in  that  phrase.  No  doubt 
"  salvation  "  in  the  Old  Testament  often  means  merely 
outward  deliverance  from  material  peril  But  there  ii 
surely  a  perceptible  deepening  of  the  meaning  of  the 
word  in  the  mouth  of  this  prophet,  to  whom  was  granted 


xil]  the  wells  of  salvation.  115 

a  nearer  approximation  to  the  light  of  the  gospel  both 
in  respect  of  the  Saviour  and  of  His  salvation,  than  had 
previously  been  given.  We  shall  not  strain  his  meaning 
here,  if  we  take  salvation  almost  in  the  fully  developed 
New  Testament  sense,  as  including  negatively  the  de- 
liverance from  all  evil,  both  evil  of  sin  and  evil  of  sorrow, 
and  positively  the  endowment  with  all  good,  good  both  of 
holiness  and  happiness,  which  God  can  bestow  or  man 
receive. 

Then  if  so,  God  himself  is,  in  the  deepest  truth,  the 
Well  of  Salvation,  We  need  only  remind  you  that  the 
figure  of  our  text  does  not  point  to  a  well  so  much  as  to 
%  spring.  It  is  a  source,  not  a  reservoir.  So  we  have 
but  to  recall  the  deep  and  wonderful  words  of  the 
psalmist :  "  With  thee  is  the  fountain  of  life,"  and  others 
not  less  profound,  of  the  prophet,  "  They  have  forsaken 
me,  the  fountain  of  living  waters,"  in  order  to  be  led  up 
to  the  essential  meaning  of  this  text  All  the  springs 
from  which  salvation,  in  any  measure  and  in  any  form, 
flows  to  the  thirsty  lips  of  men  are  in  God  Himself.  What 
grand  truths  that  thought  involves  1  It  declares  that 
salvation  has  its  origin  in  the  depths  of  God's  own  nature. 
It  wells  up  as  of  itself,  not  drawn  forth  by  anything  in  us, 
but  pouring  out  as  from  an  inner  impulse  in  His  own  deep 
heart  God  is  His  own  motive,  as  His  own  end.  As  His 
Being,  so  His  Love  (which  is  His  Being)  is  determined  by 
nothing  beyond  Himself,  but  ever  streams  out  by  an  energy 
from  within,  like  the  sunlight  whose  beams  reach  the  limits 
of  the  system  and  travel  on  through  dim  dark  distances, 
not  because  they  are  drawn  by  the  planet,  but  because  they 


3i6  THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION,        [serm. 

arc  urged  from  the  central  light  Surely,  too,  if  God  be 
the  fountain  of  salvation,  the  essence  of  salvation  must  be 
His  communication  of  Himselfl  The  water  is  the  same 
in  the  fountain  as  in  the  pitcher.  So,  while  salvation 
includes  and  gives  rise  to  many  another  blessing  both  in 
this  life  and  in  the  next,  the  very  core  and  heart  of  it  if, 
the  possession  of  God  Himself,  fiUing  our  spirits  and 
changing  our  whole  nature  into  His  own  image. 

But,  God  being  the  true  fountain  of  salvation,  notice 
that  Jesus  Christ  plainly  and  decisively  puts  Himself  in 
the  place  that  belongs  to  God  :  "  If  any  man  thirst,  let 
him  come  unto  me,  and  drink."  Think  of  the  extrar 
ordinary  claims  involved  in  that  invitation.  Here  is  a 
man  who  plants  Himself  over  against  the  whole  of  the 
human  race,  and  professes  that  He  can  satisfy  every 
thirst  of  every  soul  through  all  the  ages.  Every  craving 
of  heart  and  mind,  all  longings  for  love  and  wisdom,  for 
purity  and  joy,  for  strength  and  guidance,  He  assumes  to 
be  able  to  slake  by  the  gift  of  Himselt 

Moses  sinned  when  he  said,  "  Must  we  fetch  water  out 
of  this  rock  ?  "  and  expiated  that  sin  by  death.  But  his 
presumption  was  modesty  compared  with  the  unheard-of 
assumptions  of  the  "  meek  and  lowly  "  Christ  There  is 
but  one  hypothesis  by  which  the  character  of  Jesus  can 
be  saved,  if  He  ever  said  anything  like  these  words — ^and 
that  is  that  He  who  speaks  them  is  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh,  the  everlasting  Son  of  the  Father. 

One  other  remark  may  be  made  on  this  part  of  our 
subject  The  first  word  of  our  text  carries  us  back  to 
something  preceding,  on  which  the  drawing  water  with 


XII.]  THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION,  317 

joy  is  founded.  That  something  is  expressed  immediately 
before :  "  The  Lord  Jehovah  is  my  strength  and  song : 
He  also  is  become  my  salvation."  These  words  are 
quoted  from  Moses'  song  at  the  Red  Sea,  and  there 
point  to  the  one  definite  act  by  which  God  had  saved  the 
people  from  their  pursuers.  In  like  manner,  we  have  to 
look  to  a  definite  historical  act  by  which  the  fountain  of 
salvation  has  been  opened  for  us,  and  our  glad  drawing 
therefrom  has  been  made  possible.  The  mission  and 
work  of  Jesus  Christ,  His  incarnation,  passion  and  death, 
are  the  means  by  which  the  sealed  fountain  has  been 
opened.  In  these,  or  more  truly  in  this,  as  one  great 
whole,  God  becomes  to  us  what  in  the  depths  of  his 
Being  He  always  was.  The  living  stream  is  brought 
near.  For  men,  Jesus  Christ  is  as  the  river  which  flows 
from  the  closed  and  land-locked  sea  of  the  infir  ite  Divine 
nature.  He  is  for  us  the  only  source,  the  inexhaustible 
source,  the  perennial  source — like  some  spring  never  hot 
or  muddy,  never  frozen,  never  walled  in,  never  sinking  one 
hair's-breadth  in  its  basin,  though  armies  drink,  and  ages 
pass.  "  They  drank  of  that  Rock  which  followed  them, 
and  that  Rock  was  Christ"  So  all  the  files  of  this  moving 
host  of  men  find  the  same  spring  beside  them,  where- 
soever they  pitch,  and  the  last  of  all  the  generations  shall 
draw  joy  from  the  eternal  fountain,  Jesus  Christ  I 

Consider,  again,  what  is  the  way  of  drawing  from  the 
well  of  salvation. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  come  to  a  right  understanding 
of  the  act  which  answers  to  this  part  of  the  metaphor. 


2i8  THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION,        [skrm. 

People  have  given  many  answers  to  the  question,  If  God 
be  the  fountain  of  salvation,  how  are  we  to  get  the  water? 
If  I  may  say  so,  pumps  of  all  sorts  have  been  tried,  and 
there  has  been  much  weary  working  of  arms  at  the 
handles,  and  much  jangling  of  buckets  and  nothing 
brought  up.  The  old  word  is  true,  with  a  new  application 
to  all  who  try  in  any  shape  to  procure  salvation  by  any 
work  of  their  own :  "  Thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with, 
and  the  well  is  deep."  But  there  is  no  need  for  all  this 
profitless  work.  It  is  as  foolish  as  it  would  be  to  spend 
money  and  pains  in  sinking  a  well  in  some  mountainous 
country,  where  every  hill-side  is  seamed  with  watercourses, 
and  all  that  is  needed  is  to  put  one  end  of  any  kind  of 
wooden  spout  into  the  "  bum "  and  your  vessels  under 
the  other.  The  well  of  salvation  is  an  Artesian  well  that 
needs  no  machinery  to  raise  the  water,  but  only  pitchers 
to  receive  it  as  it  rises. 

Christ  has  taught  us  what  "drawing"  is.  To  the 
Samaritan  woman  He  said,  "  Tnou  wouldst  have  asked  of 
him,  and  he  would  have  given  thee  living  water."  So, 
then.  Drawing  is  Asking.  To  the  crowds  in  the  Temple 
courts  He  said,  "  Let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink." 
So,  then.  Drawing  is  Coming.  To  the  hsteners  by  the 
Sea  of  Gahlee  He  said,  "  He  that  cometh  to  me  shall 
never  hunger ;  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall  never 
thirst"  So  Coming,  Asking,  Drawing,  are  all  explamed 
by  Beheving.  To  trust  Christ  is  to  come  to  Him.  To 
trust  Christ  is  to  draw,  and  to  trust  Christ  is  to  drink. 
Simple  faith  draws  all  God's  goodness  into  the  souL 

Now  that    faith    whidi  is  thus    powerAil,  must  fix 


XII.]  THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION.  219 

and  fasten  on  a  definite  historical  act  Tht  fiiith 
which  draws  from  the  fountain  of  salvation  is  not  a 
vague  faith  in  generaUties  about  God's  goodness  and  the 
like,  but  it  grasps  God  a^  revealed  and  becoming  our 
salvation  in  the  person  and  work  of  Jesus  Christ  Nor 
is  it  a  vague  faith  which  has  regard  to  Christ  in  his 
lovely  character  and  perfect  purity  only,  but  one  which 
lays  hold  on  that  great  miracle  of  love  perfected  on 
the  Cross  where  He  bore  our  sins.  In  that  wonderful 
discourse  in  which  Christ  proclaims  Himself  the  Bread 
of  Life,  it  is  very  instructive  to  note  that  He  advances 
from  the  more  general  statement  that  life  comes  from 
eating  of  that  bread  which  is  Himself,  to  the  more 
special  and  defined  one,  "Whoso  eateth  my  flesh  and 
drinketh  my  blood  hath  eternal  life."  Not  merely 
Christ,  but  Christ  crucified,  is  the  food  of  our  souls, 
the  water  of  life.  So  then  the  drawing  is  faith,  and 
that  a  faith  which  grasps  the  great  sacrifice  which  Christ 
has  made,  as  the  channel  whereby  God's  salvation  comes 
near  to  each  thirsty  lip  and  drooping  souL 

The  words  preceding  our  text  suggest  another  charac- 
,teristic  of  the  faith  which  really  draws  water  from  the 
fountain  : "  He  is  become  my  salvation,"  That  is  to  say, 
this  believing  grasp  of  Christ  manifested  in  a  definite 
historical  act  is  an  intensely  personal  thing.  We  are  not 
merely  to  say  "  He  is  the  Saviour  of  the  world,"  but 
"  He  is  my  Saviour,  He  loved  mcy  and  gave  Himself  for 
nuT  We  must  lay  hold  of  that  love  as  embracmg  our- 
selves, and  make  our  very  own  the  treasure  which 
belongs  to  aU.     No  general  faith  ia  Christ's  mercy,  or  ia 


220  THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION.        [serm 

the  atoning  power  of  His  Cross,  will  suffice  to  make  us 
glad  and  to  bow  our  souls  in  quick  and  quickening  love. 
It  must  be  something  a  great  deal  more  personal  than 
that :  even  the  faith  that  His  heart  has  love  m  it  for  me^ 
that  I  am  not  lost  in  the  crowd,  nor  forgotten  in  that 
abstraction,  "  the  world,"  but  that  I  had  a  place  in  His 
thought  when  He  died,  that  I  have  a  place  in  His  heart 
while  He  lives.  Thus  making  our  own  "  the  common 
salvation,"  and  filling  our  own  vessel  at  the  great  fountain. 
we  shall  have  our  own  joy  in  the  common  gladness. 

Consider  too,  the  joy  of  the  water  drawers. 

The  well  is  the  meeting-place  in  these  hot  lands, 
where  the  solitary  shepherds  from  the  pastures  and  the 
maidens  from  the  black  camels'  hair  tents  meet  in  the 
cool  evening,  and  ringing  laughter  and  cheery  talk  go 
round.  Or  the  allusion  may  be  rather  to  the  joy,  as  of 
escape  from  death,  with  which  some  exhausted  travellers 
press  towards  the  palm  trees  on  the  horizon  that  tell 
of  a  spring  in  the  desert,  and  when  they  have  reached  it, 
crowd  to  the  founUin  and  drink  greedily,  no  matter  how 
hot  and  muddy  it  may  be. 

So  jubilant  is  the  heart  of  the  man  whose  soul  is  filled 
and  feasted  with  the  God  of  his  salvation,  and  the  salva- 
tion of  his  God.  True  Christianity  is  a  joyful  thing,  not 
indeed  with  foolish  laughter  like  the  crackling  of  thorns 
under  a  pot,  but  with  a  joy  too  deep  to  be  loud,  too  pure 
to  be  transient  Such  a  man  has  all  the  sources  and 
motives  for  joy  which  the  heart  can  ask.      Salvation 


XII.]  THE  WELLS  OF  SALVATION.  sai 

unfolds  into  manifold  gladnesses — rare  and  profound 
There  is  in  it  forgiveness,  which  makes  us  "  hear  joy  and 
gladness,  that  the  bones  which  thou  hast  broken  may 
rejoice."  There  is  companionship  with  God  and  Christ, 
and  such  society  makes  "  our  hearts  bum  within  us." 
There  is  obedience  to  His  will,  and  then  His  statutes 
become  the  "  joy  of  our  hearts."  There  is  a  bright  hope 
beyond,  and  "  in  that  hope  of  the  glory  of  God  we  can 
•ejoice."  We  are  independent  of  externals,  possessing 
Jiat  which  no  change  can  affect  and  of  which  nothing 
can  bereave  us.  So  we  can  sing  the  old  song  :  "  Though 
the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the 
vines,  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the 
God  of  my  salvation."  How  different  the  false  and 
fleeting  joys  of  earth,  when  men  resort  to  their  broken 
cisterns  that  can  hold  no  water.  The  grim  words  of 
the  prophet  are  only  too  true  about  all  other  springs  of 
gladness  :  "  They  came  to  the  pits,  and  found  no  water ; 
they  istumed  with  their  vessels  empty.  They  were 
ashamed  and  confounded,  and  covered  their  heads." 

That  ^Teat  Lord  and  Lover  of  all  our  souls  calls  to 
each  of  ui;  now,  as  He  did  to  the  men  of  His  generation, 
when  He  was  on  earth.  To  them  He  stretched  out  His 
hospitable  irms  as  He  stood  in  the  Temple  court  and  cried^ 
"  If  any  m  m  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink." 
To  us  He  speaks  from  heaven,  in  the  great  words  which 
all  but  clo.^  the  volume  of  revelation :  "  Let  him  that 
is  athirst  come,  and  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the 
walei  of  life  freely."  May  each  of  us  answer,  "  Sir,  give 
me  this  water,  that  I  «hirst  not,  neither  come  to  earth'i 
broken  cisterns  to  divw." 


SERMON   XIII. 

SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GODt 

Psalm  xxrii.  8,  9. 

When  dwu  saidst,  Seek  ye  my  face  ;  my  heart  said  onto  fhee^  Thy 
face,  Lord,  will  I  seek.    Hide  not  Thy  face  far  from  me. 

T^HERE  appears  to  be  a  good  deal  of  autobiography 
-*-  in  this  psahn.  The  writer,  whom  we  take  to  be 
David,  travels  back  in  thought  to  the  past  of  his  life,  and 
his  backward  glance  fixes  on  two  distinct  objects.  At 
®ne  time  he  thinks  of  the  past  as  God's  past,  all  illumined 
by  the  radiance  of  His  favour,  and  helped  by  the  might 
of  His  imparted  strength ;  and  at  another,  he  thinks  of  it 
as  his  own  past,  wherein  he  strove  to  love  and  serve  his 
keeper  God ;  and  from  both  of  these  aspects  of  the  dayg 
that  are  gone  he  draws  encouragement  to  hope  that  God 
will  be  the  same,  and  humbly  resolves  that  he,  for  his 
part,  will  continue  the  habit  of  trust  and  obedience.  For 
instances  of  the  remembrance  of  God's  past,  we  may  take 
the  words  which  follow  this  text,  "  Thou  hast  been  my 
help ;  leave  me  not,  neither  forsake  me,  O  God  of  my 
salvation,"  and  the  other  reference  to  the  signal  deliver- 
ance ot  his  early  years,   which  is  often    unnoticed  by 


SERM.  XIII.]    SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD,         133 

ordinary  readers,  "  When  the  wicked,  even  mine  enemies 
and  my  foes,  came  upon  me  to  eat  up  my  flesh,  they 
stumbled  and  fell  "  (ver.  2).  The  expressions  recall  the 
braggart  boast  of  Goliath,  **  I  will  give  thy  flesh  unto  the 
fowls  of  the  air,  and  to  the  beasts  of  the  field,"  and  the 
vivid  picture  of  the  end  of  the  fight,  when  the  stones  went 
crashing  into  the  thick  skull  of  the  bully,  "  and  he  fell 
upon  his  face  to  the  earth,"  As  instance  of  his  retrospect 
of  the  past  as  his^  take  such  words  as  these,  "  One  thing 
have  I  desired  of  the  Lord,  that  will  I  seek  after,"  or,  "  1 
had  fainted;  unless  I  had  believed  to  see  the  goodness  of 
the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living."  Here,  in  these  words 
of  our  text,  these  two  ways  of  looking  at  the  past  are 
woven  into  one  strong  cord,  that  the  Psalmist  may  hang 
his  confidence  and  his  prayers  thereon.  What  God  has 
been  saying  to  him  in  days  that  are  no  more,  and  what  he 
has  been  saying  to  God,  are  planted  like  the  two  piers  of 
an  arch,  that  from  them  may  rise  heavenwards  the  prayer 
and  the  hope,  "  Hide  not  thy  face  far  from  me ; "  "  Leave 
me  not,  neither  forsake  me,  O  God  of  my  salvation." 
Happy  they  who  can  look  back  on  years  made  fair  by 
God's  recognised  gifts  and  their  own  loving  obedience, 
and  who  can  feel  that  what  God  has  been  to  them,  and 
what  they  have  been  to  God,  has  stamped  their  lives  with 
an  impress  to  which  all  the  future  will  be  true  1  Happy 
they  if  their  forward  look  is  a  prayer  offered  in  lowliness, 
and  not  a  boast  made  in  presumption !  We  have  here 
then  God's  voice  to  the  heart,  the  heart's  echo  to  that 
voice,  and  the  heart's  cry  to  God,  founded  on  both  tht 
Divine  voice  and  the  human  echo. 


224  SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD,        [SERM. 


There  is  here,  first,  Gocts  voice  to  the  heart. 

There  may  be  some  difficulties  about  the  rendering 
of  our  text,  which,  however,  need  not  concern  us  now. 
Our  English  version  is  sufficient  for  our  present  purpose, 
and,  according  to  it,  we  have  here,  as  it  were,  summed 
up  in  a  kind  of  dialogue  of  two  phrases,  the  whole  speech 
of  God  to  us  men,  and  the  inmost  meaning  of  all  that 
devout  souls  say  to  God.  **Seek  ye  my  face" — such  is 
the  essential  meaning  of  all  God's  words  and  works. 
"Thy  face,  Lord,  will  I  seek" — such  is  the  essential 
meaning  of  all  prayer,  worship,  and  obedience. 

But  let  us  observe  a  little  more  closely  what  the 
Psalmist  means  by  that  phrase,  "Seeking  God's  face." 
It  needs  to  be  translated  into  a  more  modem  dialect,  in 
order  to  convey  much  meaning  to  some  of  us.  We  may 
begin  then  by  asking  the  significance  of  that  expression, 
"the  face  of  God" 

It  is  one  of  those  strong  Scripture  phrases  which  escape 
any  danger  of  misconstruction  by  the  very  boldness  of 
their  corporeal  metaphors.  The  highest  and  most 
spiritual  conception  of  God  is  reached,  not  by  a  pedantic 
scrupulosity  in  avoiding  material  representations,  but  by 
an  unhesitating  use  of  these,  and  the  remembrance  that 
they  are  representations.  The  unsubstantial  abstraction 
of  the  metaphysical  God,  described  only  in  terms  as  far 
removed  as  may  be  fi'om  human  analogies,  for  fear  d 
being  guilty  of  "anthropomorphism,"  never  helped  or 
gladdened  any  human  soul  It  is  but  a  bit  of  mist  through 
which  you  can  see  the  stars  shining.     But  the  God  whom 


XIII.]         SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD,  32$ 

men  need  and  can  know  and  love,  the  God  who  if  a 
Spirit,  comes  near  to  us  in  descriptions  cast  in  the  mould 
of  humanity,  and  loses  none  of  His  purely  Spiritual 
essence,  nor  any  of  His  Infinitude,  because  we  have 
learned  to  speak  of  the  eye,  and  arm,  and  the  hand,  and 
the  heart,  and  the  face  of  the  Lord.  The  more  unmis- 
takably "  gross "  and  "  carnal "  the  representations,  the 
more  do  they  proclaim  their  true  character,  and  the  less 
danger  of  their  being  misunderstood.  The  eye  of  the 
Lord  is  His  all-seeing  knowledge ;  the  arm  and  the  hand 
of  the  Lord  are  substantially  the  same,  though  with  certain 
shades  of  difference  in  the  ideas  which  they  suggest,  and 
may  be  said  to  express  the  active  energy  of  the  Divine 
nature.  The  face  of  the  Lord,  we  may  say,  is  that 
aspect  or  side  of  the  divine  nature  which  is  turned  to 
man,  and  is  perceptible  by  him.  It  is,  roughly  speaking, 
almost  equivalent  to  "the  name  of  the  Lord."  That 
expression  has  a  much  profounder  meaning  than  is 
ordinarily  felt  to  belong  to  it  It  means  the  manilested 
character  of  Gk)d,  the  net  result  of  all  His  self-revelation 
by  word  and  work.  And  so  these  two  phrases — the  face 
of  the  Lord  and  the  name  of  tht  Lord^  come  to  nearly  the 
same  thing.  Both  of  them  are  worth  noting  for  one 
reason  besides  others — namely,  that  they  bring  out  into 
clear  prominence  the  twin  facts,  that  there  is  that  in  God 
which  may  be  known,  and  also  that  which  cannot  be. 
Whilst  once  or  twice  in  the  Old  Testament  "  the  face  of 
God  "  is  used  to  express  the  dazzHng  brightness  of  His 
essential  being,  which  no  man  can  look  on,  it  more 
usually  means  the  knowable  part  of  the  Divine  nature, 

Q 


226  SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.        [serm, 

and,  like  the  other  phrase  which  we  have  compared  with 
it,  draws  a  broad  distinction  between  that  and  the  un- 
knowable depths — the  unspeakable  in  God.  We  see  the 
radiant  brightness  of  the  full  moon,  but  no  eye  has  ever 
beheld  the  other  side  of  that  pure  silver  shield.  So  the 
simple  expression  of  our  text  keeps  us  from  the  twin 
errors  of  supposing  that  we  can  know  nothing  of  God, 
and  of  forgetting  that  we  can  know  but  an  aspect  and  a 
side  of  His  nature. 

It  may  be  further  noticed  that  another  idea  is  usually 
connected  with  the  expression — namely  that  of  light 
The  face  of  God  is  thought  of  as  the  sun,  and  so  we  read 
*'  Lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon  us,"  and 
other  similar  passages,  in  which  the  two  ideas  of  the  rising 
of  the  sun  on  an  else  dark  world,  and  the  rising  of  the 
Divine  countenance  on  else  dark  and  wintry  hearts  are 
paralleled.  All  thoughts,  then,  of  brightness,  of  clear 
illumination,  of  gladness  and  knowledge,  of  favour  and 
warmth,  cluster  round  the  emblem ;  and  of  the  Jehovah 
of  the  Old  Testament,  as  of  the  glorified  Christ  of  the 
New,  it  may  be  said,  "  His  countenance  was  as  the  sun 
shineth  in  his  strength." 

If  these  things  be  true,  then  we  may  learn  what  it  is 
to  "  seek  His  face."  We  do  not  need  long  and  painful 
search,  as  for  something  lost  in  dim  darkness,  in  order  to 
find  the  sun.  We  do  not  need  to  seek  the  sun  with 
lanterns  j  nor  to  grope  after  God  if  haply  we  may  find 
Him.  A  man  need  only  come  out  of  his  dark  hiding-place 
to  find  it  If  he  will  but  turn  his  face  to  the  Hght,  the 
glory  will  brighten  his  features  and  make  glad  his  eyes. 


XIIL]         SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.  tXf 

And  in  like  manner,  to  seek  God's  face  is  no  long, 
dubious  search,  nor  is  He  hard  to  be  found.  We  have 
only  to  desire  to  possess — and  to  act  in  hannony  with 
the  desire — and  we  shall  walk  all  the  day  in  the  light  of 
His  countenance.  Count  the  knowledge  of  God  and  the 
experience  of  His  sunny  favour  as  more  than  all  other 
treasures  of  wisdom  or  delights  of  love  or  lower  things. 
"  There  be  many  that  say,  Who  will  show  us  any  good  ?  " 
and  the  search  is  vain,  even  because  it  has  no  clear 
knowledge  of  what  is  good,  and  seeks  to  make  up  for  the 
Umitations  of  its  possessions  by  their  multitude.  "  Lord, 
lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon  us."  That 
is  the  one  pearl  of  great  price,  for  which  all  the  frag- 
mentary and  partial  preciousnesses  of  many  goodly  pearls 
arc  wisely  exchanged.  Endeavour  to  keep  vivid  the 
consciousness  of  that  face  as  looking  always  in  on  you. 
like  the  solemn  frescoes  of  the  Christ  which  Angelico 
painted  on  the  walls  of  his  convent  cells,  that  each  poor 
brother  might  feel  His  Master  ever  with  him.  Make  Him 
your  companion,  and  then,  though  you  may  feel  the  awe 
of  the  thought,  "  Thou  hast  set  our  secret  sins  in  the  light 
of  Thy  countenance,"  you  will  find  a  joy  deeper  than  the 
awe,  and  learn  the  blessedness  of  those,  sinful  though 
they  may  be,  who  walk  in  the  full  brightness  of  that  face. 
Let  Him  be  the  object  of  your  thoughts,  and  more  and 
more  of  your  whole  nature.  Let  feeling  and  desire, 
affection  and  will,  mind  and  work,  all  turn  to  Him,  taking 
Him  for  motive  and  end,  for  strength  and  means,  and 
turning  all  your  being  towards  Him  as  the  sunflower  tumi 
to  follow  the  sun.     Scrupulously  avoid  whatever  might 


228  SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.        [SKRii. 

dim  the  vision  of  His  face.  An  invisible  vapour  may 
hide  a  star,  and  we  only  know  that  the  film  is  in  the 
nightly  sky  because  Jupiter,  which  was  blazing  a  moment 
ago,  has  become  dim  or  has  disappeared.  So  fogs  and 
vapours  from  the  undrained  swamps  of  our  own  selfish, 
worldly  hearts  may  rob  the  thought  of  God  of  all  its  genial 
lustre,  and  make  it  an  angry  ball  of  fire,  or  may  hide 
Him  altogether  from  us ;  and  we  cannot  be  seeking  Him 
and  earthly  things  any  more  than  we  can  serve  God  and 
Mammon. 

If  this  be  the  meaning  ot  seeking  God's  face,  then  note 
that  this  invitation  is  God's  mercifiil  voice  to  us  alL 
Whether  the  Psalmist  is  thinking  about  any  special  time 
or  way  in  which  God  so  spoke  to  him  does  not  appear. 
Rather,  we  may  suppose  that  he  is  summing  up  the 
meaning  of  the  whole  of  God's  dealings  with  him  in  the 
past  However  that  may  be,  it  is  true  that  God  thus 
speaks  to  each  of  us,  and  that  we  may  even  say  He  speaks 
thus  only  to  us.  By  the  revelation  to  us  of  His  own 
beauty  and  wonderful  fitness  to  satisfy  the  hunger  of  our 
souls.  He  is  wooing  us  to  seek  His  face.  So  infinitely 
fair  and  good  is  He,  that  to  make  Himself  visible  is  to 
draw  us  to  Himself.  To  know  Him  is  to  love  Him,  and 
the  heart  of  all  His  self-revelation  by  speech  and  deed  is 
the  gracious  call  to  come  to  His  brightness  and  be  at  rest 
By  the  very  make  of  our  spirits,  which  bear  on  them 
alike  in  their  weakness  and  their  strength  the  sign  that 
they  are  His,  and  can  only  be  at  rest  in  Him,  He  says, 
'  Seek  ye  my  face."  By  all  I£s  providences  of  joy  or 
sorrow,  by  disappointments  and  fulfilments,  by  hopes  and 


xiiL]         SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.  229 

fruitions,  by  losses  and  gains,  by  all  the  altemationi  which 
**  toss  us  to  His  breast,"  He  says,  "  Seek  ye  my  fecc." 
In  all  that  befalls  us  our  purged  ears  may  hear  **  the  great 
voice  saying,  Come  up  thither."  And  most  of  all  in 
Jesus  Christ,  the  true  "  angel  of  His  face,"  in  whom  all 
the  lustre  of  His  radiance  is  gathered,  does  He  beckon  us 
to  Himself.  The  highest,  most  loving,  most  beseeching 
form  of  that  wonderful  invitation,  "  Seek  ye  my  face,*  is 
the  call  of  Him  in  whose  face  we  see  the  glory  of  God  as 
we  see  it  nowhere  besides  :  **  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden,"  So  He  speaks  to  the  whole 
world.  So  He  speaks  to  each  of  us.  So  He  speaks  to 
me  by  Christ,  who  is  the  dearest  utterance  of  His  love 
and  the  express  image  of  His  person. 

IL  We  have  here  the  hearts  echo  to  the  voice  of  God, 
"  My  heart  said  unto  thee,  Thy  face,  Lord,  will  I  seek." 
Swift  and  immediate,  as  the  thunder  to  the  Hghtning,  the 
answer  follows  the  invitation.  If  the  resolve  to  seek 
God's  face  be  not  made  by  us  at  the  very  moment  when 
we  become  aware  of  His  loving  call,  it  is  very  unlikely  to 
be  made  at  all  The  first  notes  of  that  low  voice  fall  on 
the  heart  with  more  persuasive  power  than  they  retain 
after  it  has  become  familiar  with  them,  even  as  the  first- 
heard  song  of  the  thrush  in  spring-time,  that  breaks  the 
long  wintry  silence,  has  a  sweetness  all  its  own.  The 
echo  answers  as  soon  as  the  mother  voice  ceases.  But 
how  many  of  us  hesitate  and  delay,  and  content  ourselves 
with  intentions  to  answer,  and  so  by  lapse  of  time  lose 
our  very  consciousness  that  God  is  speaking  to  us  at  aU. 


230  SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD,        [serm. 

Some  of  us  are  as  dead  to  the  perception  of  His  gracious 
call,  just  because  it  has  been  sounding  on  uninterruptedly, 
as  are  the  dwellers  by  the  waterfall  to  its  unremitting 
voice.  And  it  is  always  dangerous  to  delay  for  one 
moment  the  uprising  of  the  heart  in  any  resolution  which 
we  know  to  be  right.  Any  unnecessary  interval  inter- 
posed between  the  perception  of  duty  and  the  doing  of 
duty  weakens  the  perception  and  the  resolution  as  well, 
and  lowers  the  whole  tone  of  a  man.  So  do  not  let  us 
tolerate  any  lingering  hesitation  in  ourselves  in  yielding 
to  the  Divine  summons.  The  only  safety,  the  only  peace 
lies  in  prompt  obedience  and  in  an  immediate  answer. 

There  is  also  brought  out  here  very  plainly  the  complete 
correspondence  between  the  Divine  command  and  the 
devout  man's  resolve.  Word  for  word  the  invitation  is 
repeated  in  the  answer.  This  man's  obedience  is  no 
partial  obedience.  He  does  not  take  part  of  God's  call 
and  yield  to  that,  leaving  the  rest  to  be  dispersed  in 
empty  air,  but  all  the  breadth  and  depth  of  the  message 
♦hat  comes  to  him  from  God  is  contained  in  his  an- 
nouncement of  his  purpose.  Like  the  sailor  at  the  tiller, 
he  answers  his  captain's  directions  by  repeating  them. 
"  Port,"  says  the  officer.  "  Port  it  is,"  says  the  steersman. 
"Seek  ye  my  face."  **Thy  face  will  I  seek."  The 
correspondence  in  words  means  the  correspondence  in 
action  and  the  thorough-going  obedience.  How  unlike 
the  half-and-half  seeking,  the  languid  search,  as  of  people 
listlessly  looking  for  something  which  they  do  not  much 
expect  to  find,  and  do  not  much  care  whether  they  find 
or  no,  which  characterises  so  many  so-called  Christians  I 


XIII.]  SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.  231 

They  are  seekers  after  God,  are  they?  Yes,  with  less 
eagerness  than  they  would  seek  for  a  sovereign  if  it  rolled 
from  their  fingers  into  the  mud.  And  so  need  we 
wonder  that  so  may  of  us  have  but  little  consciousness 
of  a  found  God  to  brighten  our  lives  ?  "  Seek,  and  ye 
shall  find"  is  ever  true,  thank  God,  but  it  must  be  a 
whole-hearted  seeking,  and  not  the  feeble,  flickering  desire 
and  the  listless  action  which  mark  so  many  of  us. 

Note,  too,  the  firm  and  decisive  resolution  shining 
through  the  very  brevity  of  the  words.  The  original 
gives  that  brevity  even  more  strongly.  Three  words 
suffice  to  hold  the  law  which  the  man  has  made  for  the 
pole-star  of  his  life.  Fixed  resolves  need  short  professions. 
A  Spartan  brevity,  as  of  a  man  with  his  lips  tightly  locked 
together,  is  fitting  for  such  purposes.  It  is  the  waverers, 
who  have  more  than  one  end  in  view,  or  the  feeble-willed 
who  try  to  brace  themselves  up  by  talking,  making  a 
fence  of  words  around  them,  who  are  profuse  in  their 
vows.  The  sober  temperament,  that  measures  difficulties 
and  knows  the  tenacity  as  well  as  the  gravity  of  its 
determination,  keeps  its  breath  for  the  struggle,  and  does 
not  waste  it  on  blowing  the  trumpet  beforehand.  If  we 
are  quite  resolved  that  our  life's  business  is  to  be  seeking 
God's  face,  we  shall  for  the  most  part  say  little  about  it 

What  a  contrast  that  clear,  self-conscious,  firm  reso- 
lution is  to  the  hesitations  and  indecisions  so  common 
among  us  I  How  few  of  us  could  honestly  crystallize  the 
aims  that  guide  our  life  into  any  single  sentence! 
How  much  fewer  there  are  who  could  do  it  in  thai  sen- 
tence 1  We  tiy  the  impossible  feat  of  riding  on  two  horses 


232  SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD,        [serm. 

at  once.  We  resolve  and  retract,  and  hesitate  and  com- 
promise.  The  ship  heads  now  one  way  and  now  another, 
and  that  not  because  we  are  wisely  tacking — ^that  is  to  say, 
seeking  to  reach  one  point  by  widely-varying  courses — 
but  because  our  hand  is  so  weak  on  the  helm  that  we 
drift  wherever  the  wash  of  the  waves  and  the  buffets  of 
the  wind  carry  us. 

Further,  we  have  in  this  heart's  echo  to  the  voice  of 
God  the  amvtrsum  of  a  general  invitatum  into  a  personal 
resolution. 

The  call  is,  **  Seek^^."  The  answer  is,  "  /will  seek." 
That  is  what  we  have  all  to  do  with  God's  words.  He 
sows  His  invitations  broadcast ;  we  have  to  make  them 
our  own.  He  sends  out  His  mercy  for  a  world  ;  we  have 
to  claim  each  our  portion.  He  issues  His  commands  to 
allj  I  have  to  make  them  the  law  for  my  life.  The 
stream  flows  deep  and  broad  from  the  throne  of  God, 
and  parts  into  four  heads,  the  number  expressive  of 
universal  diffusion  throughout  the  world ;  but  I  have  to 
bring  it  into  my  own  garden  by  my  own  trench,  and  to 
carry  it  to  my  own  hp  in  my  own  cup.  The  gospel  tells 
as  iat  Christ  died  for  the  world;  I  have  to  "appro- 
priate "  that,  as  our  fathers  used  to  name  it,  by  sa)ring 
He  gave  Himself  for  me.  So  when  that  merciful  voice 
comes  to  us  there  must  be,  each  for  himself^  a  personal 
response  to  it  "  Seek  ye  my  face.**  Let  us  each  reply, 
"  Thy  face,  Lord,  wiU  /seek." 

Nothing  in  all  the  world  is  so  blessed  as  to  hear  that 
wonderful  beseeching  call  sounding  in  every  providence, 
mvcUing  to  ui  from  eveiy  comer  of  the  universe,  speak- 


XIII.]         SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD,  333 


ing  to  us  in  the  light  of  setting  suns  and  in  the  hush  of 
midnight  skies,  sounding  in  the  break  of  waves  on  the 
beach   and  in  the  rustle  of  leaves  in  the  forest  depths, 
whispering  to  us  in  the  depths  of  our  own  hearts  and 
wooing  us  by  all  things  to  our  rest     Everything  assumes 
a  new  meaning  and  is  appareled  in  celestial  light  when 
we  are  aware  that  everything  is  a  messenger  from  God  to 
guide  us  to  HimselC     And  nothing  is  so  joyous  as  to 
yield  to  that  most  tender  summons,  while  on  the  other 
hand,  its  non-acceptance  breeds  and  brings  discord  and 
unrest  into  our  whole  being.     To  stifle  it  whoUy  is  im- 
possible, conscience  will  ever  and  again  stir.     When  wc 
feel  most   secure,   and  have  deadened  our  cars  most 
effectually,  as  we  think,  some  word  or  look,  a  chance 
line  in  a  book,  a  sunset,  a  phrase  in  a  sermon,   the 
meeting  of  a  funeral,  some  fleeting  gladness,  sets  the 
chords  vibrating  again.     So   there  is  constant  inward 
strife,  or,  if  not,  so  much  the  worse;  for  the  man  who 
has  lost  the  capacity  of  discerning  God's  voice  has  lost 
the  most  of  what  ennobles  his  nature.     But  that  is  heaven 
on  earth,  nobleness,  peace,  and  power,  to  stand  as  at  the 
point  of  some  great  eUipse,  to  which  converge  from  all 
sides  the  music  of  God's  manifold  invitations,  and  listen- 
ing to  them  to  say,  I  hear,  and  I  obey.     Thou  dost  call, 
and  I  answer,  Lo  I  here  am  L 

III.  The  third  bend  in  the  stream  of  thought  here  is  the 
hearts  cry  to  God  founded  on  both  the  Divine  voice  and  the 
human  echo. 

♦' Hide  not  thy  fiicc  far  from  me"  is  clearly  a  prayei 


234  SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.        [skrm. 

built  upon  both  these  elements  in  the  past  God's  in- 
vitation, and  my  acceptance  of  it,  both  give  me  the  right 
to  pray  thus,  and  are  pledges  of  the  answer. 

As  to  the  former,  "  Thou  saidst.  Seek  ye  my  face  ** — 
"  hide  not  thy  face  from  me  "  is  but  the  vivid  way  of 
putting  the  thought  that  God  cannot  contradict  Himself. 
His  commandments  are  promises.  "  Thou  shalt "  is  but 
the  hard,  rough  shell  which  covers  a  sweet  "  I  will "  from 
His  lips.  If  He  bids  us  seek  His  face,  He  thereby 
pledges  Himself  to  show  us  His  face.  He  binds  Himself 
to  us  by  His  commandments ;  and,  in  that  sense  too,  as 
well  as  in  others,  His  law  is  a  covenant,  placing  Him 
under  obligations,  even  as  it  does  us.  He  recognises  the 
force  of  the  plea  upon  our  Ups,  and  owns  that  we  prevail 
when  we  urge  it  He  can  point  with  majestic  self-vindi- 
cation to  all  the  records  of  the  past,  and  assert,  "  I  have 
never  said  to  the  seed  of  Jacob,  Seek  ye  my  face  in 
vain."  So  we  may  build  an  unshaken  confidence  on  His 
unchangeable  fidehty  to  the  obligation  under  which  He 
comes  by  sendmg  forth  such  a  summons.  Be  sure  that 
God  never  calls  us  to  a  feast  and  sets  before  us  an  empty 
table,  when  we  take  Him  at  His  word  and  come.  His 
past  is  the  guarantee  and  pattern  for  His  future.  Has 
He  bid  me  seek  His  face  ?  Then  He  cannot  hide  His 
face  from  me,  nor  say  me  nay  when  I  beseech  Him  to 
lift  up  its  light  upon  me. 

As  to  the  second  ground  of  this  prayer,  it  rests  on  my 
past  as  well  as  on  God's.  "  Thy  face  will  I  seek — hide 
not  thy  face  from  me."  That  is  the  confidence  that 
because  we  seek  we  shall  find.     My  feeblest  desire  brings 


XIII.]         SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.  235 

answers  correspondent  to  its  strength  and  purity.     It 
cannot  be  that  any  man  ever  truly  longed  to  know  Goc' 
and  was  balked  of  his  wish.     You  may  have  exactly  a^ 
much  of  Glod  as  you  want ;  as  much,  that  is,  as  you  can 
hold,  as  much  as  the  ordering  of  your  lives  makes  it 
possible  that  we  should  possess.     There  is  no  limit  to 
our  consciousness  of  God's  loving  presence  and  help, 
except  that  drawn  by  ourselves.     He  fills  the  vessels  we 
bring,  be  they  large  or  small     And  there  is  no  possibility 
of  any  longing   after   Him   remaining   unsatisfied.     No 
hunger  of  heart,  no  aching  emptiness,  no  eyes  failing 
with  looking  for  the  visitor  who  never  cornes,  no  pining 
away   in   sick  disappointment,   have   any  place   in   the 
relation  of  the  soul  to  God.     So  sufficient  is  He,  so  near, 
so  infinitely  desirous  to  impart  Himself,  that  He  needs 
but  the  narrowest  opening  to  pour  His  fulness  into  the 
heart     Blessed   are  they   who   hunger  and  thirst  after 
God,  for  they  shall  be  filled.     He  does  not  hold  out  a 
gift   with  one  hand  and  then  twitch  it  away  with  the 
other  when  wc  try  to  grasp,  as  children  do  with  light 
reflected  from  a  looking-glass  on  a  waU.     That  fair  face 
does  not  elude  us  when  we  try  to  look  on  it,  but  to  seek 
is  to  find,  to  wish  for  God  is  to  have  God. 

"  Seek  His  face  evermore,"  and  your  life  will  be  bright 
because  you  will  walk  in  the  light  of  His  countenance 
always.  That  face  will  brighten  the  darkness  of  death, 
and  "  make  a  sunshine  in  that  shady  place."  As  you 
pass  through  the  dark  valley  it  will  shine  in  upon  you, 
as  the  sun  looks  through  the  savage  gorge  in  the 
Himalayas,  above  which  towers  that  strange  mountain 


236         SEEKING  THE  FACE  OF  GOD.    [serm.  xiil 


which  is  pierced  right  through  with  a  circular  aperture ; 
and  when  you  reach  the  land  beyond  you  will  enter  it 
with  the  wonderful  hope  on  your  lips,  *' As  for  me,  I 
shall  behold  X\y  face  in  righteousness,"  and  heaven's 
heaven  will  b«  that  **  His  servants  serve  Him  and  see 
His  faca." 


SERMON   XIV. 

CITIZENS    OF    HEAYBM. 

Philip.  L  27,  aS. 

Only  let  yonr  conTenation  be  as  it  becometh  the  gospel  of  Christ  t 
that  whether  I  come  and  see  you,  or  else  be  absent,  I  may  hear 
of  your  affairs,  that  ye  stand  fast  in  one  spirit,  with  one  mind 
striving  together  for  the  faith  of  the  gospel ;  and  in  nothing 
terrified  by  yonr  adversaries. 

\  1  rE  read  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  that  Philippi 
was  the  chief  city  of  that  part  of  Macedonia,  and 
a  "colony."  Now,  the  connection  between  a  Roman 
colony  and  Rome  was  a  great  deal  closer  than  that 
between  an  Enghsh  colony  and  England.  It  was,  in 
fact,  a  bit  of  Rome  on  foreign  soil 

The  colonists  and  their  children  were  Roman  citizens. 
Their  names  were  enrolled  on  the  lists  of  Roman  tribes. 
They  were  governed  not  by  the  provincial  authorities, 
but  by  their  own  magistrates,  and  the  law  to  which  they 
owed  obedience  was  not  that  of  the  locality,  but  the  law 
of  Rome. 

No  doubt  some  of  the  Phihppian  Christians  possessed 
these  privileges.  They  knew  what  it  was  to  live  in  1 
commimity  to  which  the;-  were  less  closely  bound  than 


238  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN,  [skrm. 

to  the  great  city  beyond  the  sea.  They  were  members 
of  a  mighty  polity,  though  they  had  never  seen  its 
temples  nor  trod  its  streets.  They  lived  in  PhiUppi,  but 
they  belonged  to  Rome.  Hence  there  is  a  peculiar 
significance  in  the  first  words  of  our  text.  The  render- 
ing, "conversation,**  was  inadequate  even  when  it  was 
made.  It  has  become  more  so  now.  The  word  then 
meant  "  conduct**  It  now  means  little  more  than  words. 
But  though  the  phrase  may  express  loosely  the  Apostle's 
general  idea,  it  loses  entirely  the  striking  metaphor  under 
which  it  is  couched.  The  Revised  Version  gives  the 
literal  rendering  in  its  margin — "  Behave  as  citizens  **— 
though  it  adopts  in  its  text  a  rendering  which  disregards 
the  figure  in  the  word,  and  contents  itself  with  the  less 
picturesque  and  vivid  phrase — "  let  your  manner  of  life 
be  worthy."  But  there  seems  no  reason  for  leaving  out 
the  metaphor ;  it  entirely  fits  in  with  the  purpose  of  the 
apostle  and  with  the  context 

The  meaning  is,  Play  the  citizen  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  the  gospel  Paul  does  not,  of  course,  mean.  Dis- 
charge your  civic  duties  as  Christian  men,  though  some 
Christian  Englishmen  need  that  reminder ;  but  the  city  of 
which  inese  Philippians  were  citizens  was  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem,  the  metropoUs,  the  mother  city  of  us  all  He 
would  kindle  in  them  the  consciousness  of  belonging 
to  another  order  of  things  than  that  around  them.  He 
would  stimulate  their  loyalty  to  obedience  to  the  city's 
laws.  As  the  outlying  colonies  of  Rome  had  sometimes 
entrusted  to  them  the  task  of  keeping  the  frontiers  and 
extending  the  power  of  the  imperial  city,  so  he  stirs  them 


XIV.]  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN.  239 

up  to  aggressive  warfare  ;  and  as  in  all  their  conflicts  the 
little  colony  felt  that  the  Empire  was  at  its  back,  and 
therefore  looked  undaunted  on  shoals  of  barbarian  foes, 
so  he  would  have  his  friends  at  Phihppi  animated  by  lofty 
courage,  and  ever  confident  of  final  victory. 

Such  seems  to  be  a  general  outline  of  these  eager 
exhortations  to  the  citizens  of  heaven  in  this  outlying 
colony  of  earth.  Let  us  think  of  them  briefly  in  order 
now. 

I.  Keep  fresh  the  sense  of  belonging  to  the  mother  city, 

Paul  was  not  only  writing  to  Philippi,  but  from  Rome, 
where  he  might  see  how,  even  in  degenerate  days,  the 
consciousness  of  being  a  Roman  gave  dignity  to  a  man, 
and  how  the  idea  became  almost  a  religion.  He  would 
kindle  a  similar  feeling  in  Christians. 

We  do  belong  to  another  polity  or  order  of  things  than 
that  with  which  we  are  connected  by  the  bonds  of  flesh 
and  sense.  Our  true  affinities  are  with  the  mother  city. 
True,  we  are  here  on  earth,  but  far  beyond  the  blue 
waters  is  another  community,  of  which  we  arc  truly 
members,  and  sometimes  in  calm  weather  we  can  see,  if 
we  climb  to  a  height  above  the  smoke  of  the  valley  where 
we  dwell,  the  faint  outline  of  the  mountains  of  that  other 
land,  lying  dream-like  on  the  opal  waves,  and  bathed  in 
sunlight 

Therefore  it  is  a  great  part  of  Christian  discipline  to 
keep  a  vivid  consciousness  that  there  is  such  an  unseen 
order  of  things  at  present  in  existence.  We  speak 
popularly  of  "  the  future  life,"  and  are  apt  to  forget  that 


340  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN.  [SKRM. 

it  is  also  the  present  life  to  an  innumerable  company. 
In  fact,  this  film  of  an  earthly  life  floats  in  that  greater 
sphere  which  is  all  around  it,  above,  beneath,  touching  it 
at  every  point 

It  is,  as  Peter  says  "ready  to  be  unveiled.**  Yes, 
behind  the  thin  curtain,  through  which  stray  beams  of 
the  brightness  sometimes  shoot,  that  other  order  stands, 
close  to  us,  parted  from  us  by  a  most  slender  division, 
only  a  woven  veil,  no ^  great  gulf  or  iron  barrier.  And, 
before  long  His  hand  will  draw  it  back,  rattling  with  its 
rings  as  it  is  put  aside,  and  there  will  blaze  out  what  has 
always  been,  though  we  saw  it  not  It  is  so  close,  so 
real,  so  bright,  so  solemn,  that  it  is  worth  while  to  try  to 
feel  its  nearness;  and  we  are  so  purblind,  and  such 
foolish  slaves  of  mere  sense,  shaping  our  lives  on  the 
legal  maxim  that  things  which  are  non-apparent  must  be 
treated  as  non-existent,  that  it  needs  a  constant  effort 
not  to  lose  the  feeling  altogether. 

There  is  a  present  connection  between  all  Christian 
men  and  that  heavenly  City.  It  not  merely  exists, 
but  we  belong  to  it  in  the  measure  in  which  we  are 
Christians.  All  these  figurative  expressions  about  our 
citizenship  being  in  heaven  and  the  Hke,  rest  on  the 
simple  fact  that  the  life  of  Christian  men  on  earth  and 
in  heaven  is  fundamentally  the  same.  The  principles 
which  guide,  the  motives  which  sway,  the  tastes  and 
desires,  affections  and  impulses,  the  objects  and  aims, 
are  substantially  one.  A  Christian  man's  true  afl!inities 
are  with  the  things  not  seen,  and  with  the  persons  there, 
however  the  surface  relationships  knit  him  to  the  earth. 


XIV.]  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN.  241 

In  the  degree  in  which  he  is  a  Christian,  he  is  a  stranger 
here  and  a  native  of  the  heavens.  That  great  City  is, 
like  some  of  the  capitals  of  Europe,  built  on  a  broad 
river,  with  the  mass  of  the  metropolis  on  the  one  bank, 
but  a  wide-spreading  suburb  on  the  other.  As  the 
Trastevere  is  to  Rome,  as  Southwark  to  London,  so  is 
earth  to  heaven,  the  bit  of  the  city  on  the  other  side  the 
bridge.  As  Philippi  was  to  Rome,  so  is  earth  to  heaven, 
the  colony  on  the  outskirts  of  the  empire,  ringed  round 
by  barbarians,  and  separated  by  sounding  seas,  but 
keeping  open  its  communications,  and  one  in  citizenship. 
Be  it  our  care,  then,  to  keep  the  sense  of  that  city 
beyond  the  river  vivid  and  constant  Amid  the  shows 
and  shams  of  earth  look  ever  onward  to  the  reahties, 
"  the  things  which  ar<;,"  while  all  else  only  seems  to  be. 
The  things  which  are  seen  are  but  smoke  wreaths, 
floating  for  a  moment  across  space,  and  melting  into 
nothingness  while  we  look.  We  do  not  belong  to  them 
or  to  the  order  of  hings  to  which  they  belong.  There 
is  no  kindred  between  us  and  them.  Our  true  relation- 
ships are  elsewhere.  In  this  present  visible  world  all 
other  creatures  find  their  sufficient  and  home-like  abode. 
"  Foxes  have  holes,  and  birds  their  roosting-places ;"  but 
man  alone  has  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  aor  can  he 
find  in  all  the  width  of  the  created  unive-se  a  place  in 
which  and  with  which  he  can  be  satisfied.  Our  true 
habitat  is  elsewhere.  So  let  us  set  our  thoughts  and 
affections  on  things  above.  The  descendants  of  the 
original  settlers  in  our  colonies  talk  stul  of  coming  to 
England  as  going  "  home,"  though  they  were  bom  in 

E 


24a  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN,  [serm. 

Australia,  and  have  lived  there  all  their  lives.  In  like 
manner  we  Christian  people  should  keep  vigorous  in  our 
minds  the  thought  that  our  true  home  is  there  where  we 
have  never  been,  and  that  here  we  are  foreigners  and 
wanderers. 

Nor  need  that  feeling  of  detachment  from  the  present 
sadden  our  spirits,  or  weaken  our  interest  in  the  things 
around  us.  To  recognise  our  separation  from  the  order 
of  things  in  which  we  "move,"  because  we  belong  to 
that  majestic  unseen  order  in  which  we  really  "  have  our 
being,"  makes  life  great  and  not  small.  It  clothes  the 
present  with  dignity  beyond  what  is  possible  to  it  if  it  be 
not  looked  at  in  the  light  of  its  connection  with  **  the 
regions  beyond."  From  that  connection  life  derives  all 
its  meaning.  Surely  nothing  can  be  conceived  more 
unmeaning,  more  wearisome  in  its  monotony,  more 
tragic  in  its  joy,  more  purposeless  in  its  efforts,  than 
man's  life,  if  the  life  of  sense  and  time  be  all  Truly  it 
is  "  like  a  tale  told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
signifymg  nothing."  "  The  white  radiance  of  eternity " 
streaming  through  it  from  above  gives  all  its  beauty  to 
the  "  dome  of  many-coloured  glass  "  which  men  call  life. 
They  who  feel  most  their  connection  with  the  city  which 
hath  foundations  should  be  best  able  to  wring  the  last 
drop  of  pure  sweetness  out  of  all  earthly  joys,  to  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  all  events,  and  to  be  interested 
most  keenly,  because  most  intelligently  and  most  nobly, 
in  the  homeliest  and  smallest  of  the  tasks  and  concerns 
of  the  present 

So,  fn  all  things,  act  as  citizens  of  the  great  Motiicr  of 


xnr.]  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN.  243 

heroes  and  saints  beyond  the  sea.  Ever  feel  that  you 
belong  to  another  order,  and  let  the  thought,  "  Here  we 
have  no  continuing  city,"  be  to  you  not  merely  the  bitter 
lesson  taught  by  the  transiency  of  earthly  joys  and 
treasures  and  loves,  but  the  happy  result  of  "  seeking  for 
the  city  which  hath  the  foundations." 

II.  Another  exhortation  which  our  text  gives  is.  Live 
by  the  laws  of  the  city. 

The  Philippian  colonists  were  governed  by  the  code 
of  Rome.  Whatever  might  be  the  law  of  the  province 
of  Macedonia,  they  owed  no  obedience  to  it  So 
Christian  men  are  not  to  be  governed  by  the  maxims 
and  rules  of  conduct  which  prevail  in  the  province,  but 
to  be  governed  from  the  capital.  We  ought  to  get  from 
on-lookers  the  same  character  that  was  given  to  the  Jews, 
that  we  are  "  a  people  whose  laws  are  different  from  ail 
people  that  be  on  earth,"  and  we  ought  to  reckon  such  a 
character  our  highest  praise.  Paul  would  have  these 
Philippian  Christians  act  "  worthy  of  the  gospel''  That 
is  our  law. 

The  great  good  news  of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  and 
of  our  salvation  through  Christ  Jesus,  is  not  merely  to  be 
believed,  but  to  be  obeyed.  The  gospel  is  not  merely  a 
message  of  deliverance,  it  is  also  a  rule  of  conduct  It 
is  not  merely  theology,  it  is  also  ethics.  Like  some  of 
the  ancient  municipal  charters,  the  grant  of  privileges 
and  proclamation  of  freedom  is  also  the  sovereign  code 
which  imposes  duties  and  shapes  life.  A  gospel  of 
laziness  and  mere  exemption  from  hell  was  not  Paul'i 


244  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN.  [SERM. 

gospel.  A  gospel  of  doctrines,  to  be  investigated,  spun 
into  a  system  of  theology,  and  accepted  by  the  under- 
standing, and  there  an  end,  was  not  Paul's  gospel  He 
believed  that  the  great  facts  which  he  proclaimed  con- 
cerning the  self-revelation  of  God  in  Christ  would  unfold 
into  a  sovereign  law  of  life  for  every  true  believer,  and 
so  his  one  all-sufficient  precept  and  standard  of  conduct 
arc  in  these  simple  words,  "  worthy  of  the  gospeL" 

That  law  is  all-sufficient  In  the  truths  which  con- 
stituted Paul's  gospel,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  truths  of  the 
life,  death,  and  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,  lies  all  that 
men  need  for  conduct  and  character.  In  Him  we  have 
the  "  realised  ideal,"  the  flawless  example,  and  instead  of 
a  thousand  precepts,  for  us  all  duty  is  resolved  into  one 
— ^be  like  Christ  In  Him  we  have  the  mighty  motive, 
powerful  enough  to  overcome  all  forces  that  would  draw 
us  away,  and  like  some  strong  spring  to  keep  us  in 
closest  contact  with  Right  and  Goodness.  Instead  of  a 
confusing  variety  of  appeals  to  manifold  motives  of 
interest  and  conscience,  and  one  knows  not  what  beside, 
we  have  the  one  all-powerful  appeal,  "  If  ye  love  me, 
keep  my  commandments,"  and  that  draws  all  the 
agitations  and  fluctuations  of  the  soul  afler.  it,  as  the 
rounded  fullness  of  the  moon  does  the  heaped  waters  in 
the  tidal  wave  that  girdles  the  world.  In  Him  we  have 
all  the  helps  that  weakness  needs,  for  He  Himself  will 
come  and  dwell  with  us  and  in  us,  and  be  our  righteous- 
ness and  our  strength. 

Live  "  worthy  of  the  gospel,"  then.     How  grand  the 
unity  and  simplicity  thus  breathed  into  our  duties  and 


XIV.]  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN,  245 

through  our  lives  I  All  duties  are  capable  of  reduction 
to  this  one,  and  though  we  shall  still  need  detailed 
instruction  and  specific  precepts,  we  shall  be  set  free 
from  the  pedantry  of  a  small  scrupulous  casuistry,  which 
fetters  men's  Hmbs  with  microscopic  bands,  and  shall 
joyfully  learn  how  much  mightier  and  happier  is  the  life 
which  is  shaped  by  one  fruitful  principle,  than  that  which 
is  hampered  by  a  thousand  regulations. 

Nor  is  such  an  all-comprehensive  precept  a  mere 
toothless  generality.  Let  a  man  try  honestly  to  shape 
his  life  by  it ;  and  he  will  find  soon  enough  how  close  it 
grips  him,  and  how  wide  it  stretches  and  how  deep  it 
goes.  The  greatest  principles  of  the  gospel  are  to  be 
fitted  to  the  smallest  duties.  Indeed  that  combination — 
great  principles  and  small  duties — is  the  secret  of  all 
noble  and  calm  life,  and  nowhere  should  it  be  so  beauti- 
fully exemplified  as  in  the  life  of  a  Christian  man.  The 
tiny  round  of  the  dew-drop  is  shaped  by  the  same  lawk 
that  mould  the  giant  sphere  of  the  largest  planet  You 
cannot  make  a  map  of  the  poorest  grassfield  without 
celestial  observations.  The  star  is  not  too  high  nor  too 
brilliant  to  move  before  us  and  guide  simple  men's  feet 
along  their  pilgrimage.  "Worthy  of  the  gospel"  is  a 
most  practical  and  stringent  law. 

And  it  is  an  exclusive  commandment  too,  shutting  out 
obedience  to  other  codes,  however  common  and  fashion- 
able thry  may  be.  We  are  governed  from  home,  and  we 
give  no  submission  to  provincial  authorities.  Never  mind 
what  prople  say  about  you,  nor  what  may  be  the  maxims 
and  ways  of  men  around  you.     These  are  no  guides  iat 


246  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN,  [serm 

you.  Public  opinion  (which  only  means  for  most  of  us  the 
hasty  judgments  of  the  half-dozen  people  who  happen 
to  be  nearest  us),  use  and  wont,  the  customs  of  our  set, 
the  notions  of  the  world  about  duty,  all  these  we  have 
nothing  to  do  with.  The  censures  or  the  praise  of  men 
need  not  move  us.  We  report  to  headquarters,  and 
subordinates'  estimate  need  be  nothing  to  us.  1  et  us 
then  say,  "  With  me  it  is  a  very  small  matter  that  I  should 
be  judged  of  men's  judgment  He  that  judgeth  me  is 
the  Lord."  When  we  may  be  misunderstood  or  harshly 
dealt  with,  let  us  lift  our  eyes  to  the  lofty  seat  where  the 
Emperor  sits,  and  remove  ourselves  from  men's  sentences 
by  our  "  appeal  unto  Caesar,"  and,  in  all  varieties  of 
circumstances  and  duty,  let  us  take  the  gospel  which  is 
the  record  of  Christ's  life,  death,  and  character,  for  our 
only  law,  and  labour  that,  whatever  others  may  think  of 
us,  we  "  may  be  well  pleasing  to  him." 

III.  Further,  our  text  bids  the  colonists  fight  for  the 
advance  of  the  dominions  of  the  city, — Like  the  armed 
colonists  whom  Russia  and  other  empires  had  on  their 
frontier,  who  received  their  bits  of  land  on  condition  of 
holding  the  border  against  the  enemy,  and  pushing  it 
forward  a  league  or  two  when  possible,  Christian  men 
are  set  down  in  their  places  to  be  **  wardens  of  the 
marches,"  citizen  soldiers  who  hold  their  homesteads  on 
a  military  tenure,  and  are  to  "  strive  together  for  the  faith 
ofthegospeir 

There  is  no  space  here  and  now  to  go  into  details  o! 
the  exposition  of  this  part  of  our  text     Enough  to  say  in 


XIV.]  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN,  247 

brief  that  we  are  here  exhorted  to  "  stand  fast ; "  that  is, 
as  it  were,  the  defensive  side  of  our  warfare,  maintaining 
our  ground  and  repeUing  all  assaults;  that  this  successful 
resistance  is  to  be  "  in  one  spirit,"  inasmuch  as  all  resis- 
tance depends  on  our  poor  feeble  spirits  being  ingrafted 
and  rooted  in  God's  Spirit,  in  vital  union  with  whom  we 
may  be  knit  together  into  a  unity  which  shall  oppose  a 
granite  breakwater  to  the  on-rushing  tide  of  opposition ; 
that  in  addition  to  the  unmoved  resistance  which  will  not 
yield  an  inch  of  the  sacred  soil  to  the  enemy,  we  are  to 
carry  the  war  onwards,  and,  not  content  with  holding 
our  own,  are  with  one  mind  to  strive  together  for  the 
faith  of  the  gospel  There  is  to  be  discipline,  then,  and 
compact  organisation,  like  that  of  the  legions  whom  Paul, 
from  his  prison  among  the  Praetorian  guards,  had  often 
seen  shining  in  steel,  moving  like  a  machine,  grim,  irre- 
sistible. The  cause  for  which  we  are  to  fight  is  the  faith 
of  the  gospel,  an  expression  which  almost  seems  to  justify 
the  opinion  that  "  the  faith  "  here  means,  as  it  does  in 
later  usage,  the  sum  and  substance  of  that  which  is 
believed.  But  even  here  the  word  may  have  its  usual 
meaning  of  the  subjective  act  of  trust  in  the  gospel,  and 
the  thought  may  be  that  we  are  unitedly  to  fight  for  its 
growing  power  in  our  own  heart  and  in  the  hearts  of 
others.  In  any  case  the  idea  is  plainly  here  that  Christian 
men  are  set  down  in  the  world,  like  the  frontier  guard,  to 
push  the  conquests  of  the  empire,  and  to  win  more  groimd 
for  their  King. 

Such  work  is  ever  needed,  never  more  needed  than 
A)w.     In  this  day  when  a  wave  of  unbelief  seems  pnsing 


248  CITIZENS  or  HE  A  VEN.  [serm. 

over  society,  when  material  comfort  and  worldly  prosperity 
are  so  dazzlingly  attractive  to  so  many,  the  solemn  duty 
is  laid  upon  us  with  even  more  than  usual  emphasis,  and 
we  are  called  upon  to  feel  more  than  ever  the  oneness 
of  all  true  Christians,  and  to  close  up  our  ranks  for  the 
fight  All  this  can  only  be  done  after  we  have  obeyed 
the  other  injunctions  of  this  text  The  degree  in  which 
we  feel  that  we  belong  to  another  order  of  things  than 
this  around  us,  and  the  degree  in  which  we  live  by  the 
Imperial  laws,  will  determine  the  degree  m  which  we  can 
fight  with  vigour  for  the  growth  of  the  dominion  of  the 
dty.  Be  it  ours  to  cherish  the  vivid  coLfCiousness  that 
we  are  here  dwelling  not  in  the  cities  of  th«  Canaanites, 
but;  like  the  father  of  the  faithfiil,  in  tents  pitched  at  their 
gates,  nomads  in  the  midst  of  a  civic  life  to  which  we  do 
not  belong,  in  order  that  we  may  breathe  a  hallowing 
influence  through  it,  and  win  hearts  to  the  love  of  Him 
whom  to  imitate  is  perfection,  whom  to  serve  is  fireedom. 

IV.  The  last  exhortation  to  the  colonists  is,  Be  sun  of 
vtiUffy* 

**  In  nothing  terrified  by  your  adversaries,"  says  Paul 
He  uses  a  very  vivid;  and  some  people  might  think,  a 
very  vulgar  metaphor  here.  The  word  rendered  terrified 
properly  refers  to  a  horse  shymg  or  plunging  at  some 
object  It  is  generally  things  half  seen  and  mistaken  for 
something  more  dreadful  than  themselves  that  make 
horses  shy ;  and  it  is  usually  a  half-look  at  adversaries, 
and  a  mistaken  estimate  of  their  strength,  that  make 
<;^fi«t'anf  afiraid.    Go  up  to  your  fears  and  speak  to 


xiyj  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN.  349 

them,  and  as  ghosts  are  said  to  do,  they  will  generally 
fade  away.  So  we  may  go  into  the  battle,  as  the  rash 
French  minister  said  he  did  into  the  Franco-German  war, 
"with  a  light  heart,"  and  that  for  good  reasons.  We 
have  no  reason  to  fear  for  ourselves.  We  have  no 
reason  to  fear  for  the  ark  of  God.  We  have  no  reason 
to  fear  for  the  growth  of  Christianity  in  the  world.  Many 
good  men  in  this  time  seem  to  be  getting  half-ashamed 
of  the  gospel,  and  some  preachers  are  preaching  it  in 
words  which  sound  like  an  apology  rather  than  a  creed. 
Do  not  let  us  allow  the  enemy  to  overpower  our  imagi- 
nations in  that  fashion.  Do  not  let  us  fight  as  if  we 
expected  to  be  beaten,  always  casting  our  eyes  over  our 
shoulders,  even  while  we  are  advancing,  to  make  sure  of 
our  retreat,  but  let  us  trust  our  gospel,  and  trust  our 
King,  and  let  us  take  to  heart  the  old  admonition,  '*  Lift 
up  thy  voice  with  strength ;  lift  it  up,  be  not  airjid." 

Such  courage  is  a  prophecy  of  victory.  Such  courage 
IS  based  upon  a  sure  hope.  *'Our  citizenship  is  in 
heaven,  from  whence  also  we  look  for  the  Lord  Jesus  as 
Saviour."  The  little  outlying  colony  in  this  far-off  edge 
of  the  empire  is  ringed  about  by  wide-stretching  hosts 
of  dusky  barbarians.  Far  as  the  eye  can  reach  their 
myriads  cover  the  land  and  the  watchers  from  the 
ramparts  might  well  be  dismayed  if  they  had  only  their 
own  resources  to  depend  on.  But  they  know  that  the 
Emperor  in  his  progress  will  come  to  this  sorely  beset 
outpost,  and  thcii  eyes  are  fixed  on  the  pass  in  the  hills 
where  they  expect  to  see  the  waving  banners  and  the 
gleaming  spears.   Soon,  like  our  countrymen  in  I^cknow, 


25©  CITIZENS  OF  HE  A  VEN.       [serm.  xnr. 

they  will  hear  the  music  and  the  shouts  that  tell  that  He 
is  at  hand.  Then  when  He  comes,  He  will  raise  the 
siege  and  scatter  all  the  enemies  as  the  chaflf  of  the 
threshing-floor,  and  the  colonists  who  held  the  post  will 
go  with  Him  to  the  land  which  they  have  never  seen, 
but  which  is  their  home,  and  will,  with  the  Victor,  sweep 
in  triumph  "  through  the  gates  into  the  citf." 


SERMON   XV. 

MOSES    AND    HOBAa 

NUMBhRS  X.  39,  31. 

Vnd  Moses  said  onto  Hobab  .  .  .  Leave  us  not,  I  pray  thee ;  for* 
asmuch  as  thou  knowest  how  we  are  to  encamp  in  the  wilderness, 
and  thou  mayest  be  to  us  instead  of  eyes. 

nPHE  fugitives  whom  Moses  led  reached  Sinai  in  three 
-^  months  after  leaving  Egypt  They  remained  there 
for  at  least  nine  months,  and  amidst  the  solitude  of  these 
wild  rocks  they  kept  the  first  Passover — the  anniversary 
of  their  deliverance.  "  On  the  twentieth  day  of  the 
second  month  "  they  began  again  their  march  through  the 
grim,  unknown  desert 

One  can  fancy  their  thoughts  and  fears  as  they  looked 
forward  to  the  enemies  and  trials  which  might  be  await- 
ing them.  In  these  circumstances  this  story  comes  in 
most  naturally.  Some  time  before  the  encampment 
broke  up  from  Sinai,  a  relative  of  Moses  by  marriage, 
whose  precise  connection  with  him  need  not  trouble  us 
now,  Hobab  by  name,  had  come  into  camp  on  a  visit 
He  was  a  Midianite  by  race,  one  of  the  wandering  tribes 
from  the  south-east  of  the  Arabian  peninsula.  He  knew 
every  foot  of  the  ground,  as  such  men  do.     He  knew 


2S2  MOSES  AND  HOBAB.  [SBRM. 

where  the  springs  were  and  the  herbage,  the  campine 
places,  the  short  cuts,  and  the  safest  routes.  So  Moses, 
who  had  no  doubt  forgotten  much  of  the  little  desert 
skill  he  had  learned  in  keeping  Jethro's  flock,  prays 
Hobab  to  remain  with  them  and  give  them  the  benefit 
of  his  practical  knowledge — '*  to  be  to  us  instead  of 
eyes." 

The  free,  wild  wanderer  does  not  care  to  leave  the 
black  tents  of  his  tribe  to  link  his  fortunes  with  those  of 
the  unwieldy  hosts  of  fugitives,  and  flatly  refuses.  Then 
Moses  presses  the  proposal  oq  him,  with  judicious 
compliments  and  large  promises  of  sharing  in  all  their 
prosperity. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  the  narrative  does  not  tell  whether 
the  persistent  request  succeeded  or  not  We  find,  indeed, 
his  descendants  enrolled  in  the  great  Dooms(];iy  Book  of 
the  Conquest  as  possessing  land  and  probably  incorporated 
among  the  IsraeUtes.  It  may,  therefore,  be  supposed 
that  either  then  or  afterwards  Hobab  forsook  his  country 
and  his  father's  house  to  shelter  himself  beneath  the 
wings  of  the  God  of  Jacob. 

But,  at  all  events,  the  silence  of  the  record  is  significant, 
especially  if  taken  in  connection  with  the  verses  imme- 
diately following.  The  historian  does  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  tell  whether  Moses*  attempt  to  secure  the  help 
of  a  pair  of  sharp  Bedouin  eyes  succeeded  or  failed,  but 
passes  on  to  describe  at  once  how  "  the  ark  of  the 
covenant  of  the  Lord  went  before  them  to  search  out  a 
resting-place  for  them,"  and  how  "  the  cloud  was  upon 
Ihem  when  they  went  out  of  the  camp."    He  puts  tNt 


XV.]  MOSES  AND  HOBAB,  153 

two  things  side  by  side,  not  calling  on  us  to  notice  the 
juxtaposition,  but  surely  expecting  that  we  shall  not  miss 
what  b  so  plain.  He  would  teach  us  that  it  mattered 
little  whether  Israel  had  Hobab  or  not,  if  they  had  the 
ark  and  the  cloud.  Perhaps  he  meant  us  to  ask  ourselves 
whether  it  was  not  a  wavering  of  faith  in  Moses  to  be  so 
anxious  to  secure  a  human  guide  when  he  had  a  Divine 
leader.  So,  at  least,  it  appears  to  us,  and  from  that  point 
of  view  we  purpose  to  view  the  incident  now. 

L  There  are  times  and  moods  in  which  our  forward 
look  brings  with  it  a  painful  sense  of  the  unknown 
wilderness  before  us. 

The  general  complexion  of  the  future  may  be  roughly 
estimated  We  soon  outUve  the  illusions  which  dance 
before  us  at  the  beginning,  and  cease  to  expect  such 
surprising  delights  and  radiant  flashes  of  unexpected 
good  fortune  as  young  dreams  spread  before  us.  We 
know  very  early  in  life,  unless  we  are  wonderfully 
frivolous  and  credulous,  that  the  thread  of  our  da)rs  is  a 
mingled  strand,  and  the  prevailing  tone  a  sober,  neutral 
tint  The  main  characteristics  of  what  we  shall  meet  we 
know  well  enough.  "  That  which  is  to  be  hath  already 
been."  But  the  particular  events  are  hid,  and  it  is 
strange  and  impressive  when  we  come  to  think  how 
Providence,  working  with  the  same  uniform  materials  in 
all  human  lives,  can  yet,  like  some  skilful  artist,  produce 
endless  novelty  and  surprises  in  each  life.  All  men 
tread  substantially  the  same  road.     ^  There  hath  nothing 


254  MOSES  AND  HOBAB,  [SERlL 

befallen  us  but  such  as  is  common  to  men,"  and  yet  for 
every  one  of  us  the  road  is  new  day  by  day.  Some  of  us 
go  on  for  years  in  an  unbroken  monotony  of  the  same 
duties  and  circumstances,  and  know  that  in  all  pro- 
bability we  shall  be  doing  the  same  things  till  we  die, 
and  yet  every  morning  we  come  to  our  work  with  some 
feeling  of  novelty  which  is  not  all  illusion.  *'  We  have 
not  passed  this  way  heretofore,"  is  always  true  of  each 
new  day's  tasks  and  incidents  ;  for  even  if  they  be  the 
game  as  those  of  a  thousand  days  before,  yet  we  who 
tread  the  road  are  not  quite  the  same,  and  the  bearing 
of  the  events  on  us  is  somewhat  different 

The  solemn  ignorance  of  the  next  moment  is  &ome- 
times  stimulating  and  joyous.  To  young  life  it  gives 
zest  and  buoyancy,  and  secures  many  a  joyful  surprise. 
But  to  all  there  come  times — and  perhaps  they  are  more 
frequent  as  life  goes  on,  and  the  consciousness  increases 
that  changes  now  will  generally  be  losses — when  the 
blank  curtain  between  us  and  the  next  beat  of  the 
pendulum  is  felt  to  be  very  near  us  and  very  thick,  and 
when  the  ignorance  is  saddening,  and  when  the  shapes 
that  we  paint  on  its  black  folds  are  gloomy  and  threaten- 
ing. Terrors  come  to  us  all,  and  we  are  apt  to  clasp 
our  treasures  with  a  spasmodic  grasp,  as  much  anguish 
as  love,  when  we  think  of  what  must  be  some  day,  and 
may  be  any  day.  In  some  moods,  and  thinking  of  some 
things  which  are  certainties  as  to  the  fact,  and  contin' 
gencies  only  as  to  the  time,  each  of  us  must  say — 

"Forward  though  I  cannot  im^ 
I  gaess  and  fear." 


XV.]  MOSES  AND  HOBAB,  155 

It  is  a  libel  on  God's  goodness  to  speak  of  the  world 
as  a  wilderness.  He  has  not  made  it  so ;  and  if  anybody 
finds  that  "  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,"  it  is  his 
own  fault  But  still  one  aspect  of  Hfc  is  truly  represented 
by  that  figure.  There  are  dangers  and  barren  places, 
and  a  great  solitude  in  spite  of  love  and  companionship, 
and  many  marchings  and  lurking  foes,  and  grim  rocks, 
and  fierce  suns,  and  parched  wells,  and  shadeless  sand 
wastes  enough  in  every  life  to  make  us  quail  often  and 
look  grave  always  when  we  think  of  what  may  be  before  us. 
Who  knows  what  we  shall  see  when  we  top  the  next  hill, 
or  round  the  shoulder  of  the  cliff  that  bars  our  way? 
What  shout  of  an  enemy  may  crash  in  upon  the  sleeping 
camp ;  or  what  stifling  gorge  of  barren  granite — blazing 
in  the  sun  and  trackless  to  our  feet — shall  we  have  to 
march  through  to-day  ? 

The  great  crises  and  trials  of  our  lives  mostly  come 
unlooked  for.  There  is  nothing  so  certain  as  the  un- 
expected. The  worst  thunder  comes  on  us  out  of  a  clear 
sky.  Our  Waterloos  have  a  way  of  crashing  into  the 
midst  of  our  feasts,  and  generally  it  is  when  all  goes 
"  merry  as  a  marriage  bell "  that  the  cannon  shot  breaks 
in  upon  the  mirth,  which  tells  that  the  enemy  have 
crossed  the  river  and  the  battle  is  begun. 

II.  We  have  here  an  illustration  of  the  weakness  thai 
'lings  to  human  guides. 

Most  commentators  excuse,  or  even  approve  of  this 
efibrt  by  Moses  to  secure  Hobab*s  help,  and  draw  from 


256  MOSES  AND  HOBAB.  [skrm. 

the  story  the  lesson  that  supernatural  guidance  does  not 
make  human  guidance  unnecessary.  That,  of  course, 
is  true  in  a  fashion ;  but  it  appears  to  us  that  the  true 
lesson  of  the  incident,  considered,  as  we  have  already 
remarked,  in  connection  with  the  following  section,  is 
much  rather  that  for  men  who  have  God  to  guide  them, 
it  argues  weakness  of  faith  and  courage  to  be  much 
solicitous  of  any  Hobab  to  show  them  where  to  go  and 
where  to  camp. 

Of  course  we  are  meant  to  depend  on  one  another. 
No  man  can  safely  isolate  himself,  either  intellectually  or 
in  practical  matters.  The  self-trained  scholar  is  usually 
incomplete.  Crotchets  take  possession  of  the  solitary 
thinker,  and  peculiarities  of  character  that  would  have 
been  kept  in  check,  and  might  have  become  aids  in  the 
symmetrical  development  of  the  whole  man,  if  they  had 
been  reduced  and  modified  in  society,  get  swollen  into 
deformities  in  solitude.  The  highest  and  the  lowest 
blessings  for  life  both  of  heart  and  mind — blessedness 
and  love,  and  wisdom  and  goodness — are  ministered  to 
men  through  men,  and  to  live  without  dependence  on 
human  help  and  guidance  is  to  be  either  a  savage  or  an 
angel  God's  guidance  does  not  make  man's  needless, 
for  a  very  large  part  of  God's  guidance  is  ministered  to 
ns  through  men.  And  wherever  a  man's  thoughts  and 
words  teach  us  to  understand  God's  thoughts  and  words 
more  clearly,  to  love  them  more  earnestly,  or  to  obey 
them  more  gladly,  there  human  guidance  is  discharging 
its  noblest  function.  And  wherever  the  human  guide 
turns  us  away  from  himself  to  God,  and  says,  '*  I  am  b- 


XT.]  MOSES  AND  HOBAB.  ni 

a  voice,  I  am  not  the  light  that  guides,**  there  it  b  blessed 
and  safe  to  cherish  and  to  prize  it 

But  we  are  ever  apt  to  feel  that  we  cannot  do  without 
the  human  leader.  Our  hearts  crave  for  earthly  love, 
and  that  craving  is,  as  it  were,  an  open  channel,  through 
which  the  purest  water  of  life  which  this  world  can  yield 
is  poured  into  our  hearts.  But  how  close  to  the  joy  and 
the  blessedness  does  the  temptation  he!  Are  we  not 
ever  in  danger  of  giving  the  very  choicest  of  our  love  to 
the  dear  ones  of  earth,  lavishing  on  them  the  precious 
juice  which  flows  from  the  freshly-gathered  grapes,  and 
putting  God  off  with  the  last  impoverished  and  scanty 
drops  which  can  be  squeezed  from  the  husks  ?  How  we 
rejoice  over  the  love  of  earth,  and  cherish  it,  and  feel 
ourselves  rich  and  strong  by  reason  of  it  I  How  we  sink 
in  utter  despair  and  hopeless  sorrow  when  it  passes  from 
us,  and  feel  "  they  have  taken  away  my  gods,  and  what 
have  I  more?**  How  we  follow  the  counsel  of  those 
whom  we  love,  cherishing  their  lightest  word,  and  feeling 
glad  and  free  when  we  are  carrying  out  their  faintest  wishes  t 
And,  alas,  how  often,  in  a  very  real  and  tragical  sense, 
"  a  man's  foes  are  they  of  his  own  household,"  and  their 
love  and  tenderness  more  deadly  than  their  hate  could 
ever  be,  because  it  keeps  us  back  from  God,  and  blinds 
our  eyes  to  the  pointing  finger  of  our  true  Guide  and 
Lover! 

We  are  meant  to  get  much  of  our  belief  and  practice 
from  human  teachers  and  examples.  But  our  weakness 
of  faith  in  the  unseen  is  ever  tending  to  pervert  the 
relation  between  teacher  and  taught  into  practical  lor- 

• 


358  MOSES  AND  HOBAB,  [skrm. 

getfulness  that  the  promise  of  the  new  covenant  is, "  They 
shall  all  be  taught  of  God."  So  we  are  all  apt  to  pin  our 
faith  on  some  trusted  guide,  and  many  of  us  in  these 
days  will  follow  some  teacher  of  negations  with  an 
implicit  submission  which  we  refuse  to  give  to  Jesus 
Christ.  We  put  the  teacher  between  ourselves  and  God, 
and  give  to  the  glowing  colours  of  the  painted  window 
the  admiration  that  is  due  to  the  light  which  shines 
through  it  The  teacher,  be  he  preacher  or  author,  has 
succeeded  in  his  work  when  he  has  taught  his  pupils  to 
do  without  him,  having  led  them  to  the  place  where  they 
can  draw  at  first  hand  from  the  depths  of  God ;  and  the 
highest  eulogium  that  he  can  receive  is  when  his  scholars 
say  to  him,  **  Now  we  believe,  not  because  of  thy  saying, 
for  we  have  heard  him  ourselves." 

There  are  a  thousand  ways  in  which  our  poor  weak 
hearts  cry  out  in  their  sense-bound  unbelief  for  visible 
stays  to  lean  upon,  and  guides  to  direct  us.  In  so 
fjair  as  that  is  a  kgitimate  longing,  God,  who  never 
"  sends  mouths,  but  He  sends  meat  to  feed  them,"  will 
not  leave  us  to  cry  unheard.  But  let  us  guard  against 
that  ever-present  weakness  which  clings  tremblingly  to 
creatures  and  men  for  help  and  guidance,  and,  in  pro- 
portion as  it  is  rich  when  it  possesses  them,  trembles  at 
the  prospect  of  losing  them,  and  is  crushed  and  desolate 
when  they  go.  Do  not  put  them  as  barriers  between 
you  and  God,  nor  yield  your  own  clearness  of  vision  to 
them,  nor  say  to  any,  "  Be  to  us  mstead  of  eyes,"  nor  be 
over  anxious  to  secure  any  Hobab  to  show  you  where  to 
camp  or  how  to  march 


XV.]  MOSES  AND  HOBAB,  259 


IIL  The  contrast  which  is  brought  into  prominence 
by  the  juxtaposition  of  this  section  and  that  which 
follows  it,  makes  emphatic  the  thought  of  the  true  leader 
of  our  march. 

The  true  leader  of  the  children  of  Israel  in  their 
wilderness  journey  was  not  Moses,  but  the  Divine 
Presence  in  the  cloud  with  a  heart  of  fire,  that  hovered 
over  their  camp  for  a  defence  and  sailed  before  them  for 
a  guide.  "  The  Lord  went  before  them  by  day  in  a  pillar 
of  cloud  to  lead  them  the  way."  When  it  lay  on  the 
tent,  whether  it  were  for  "  two  days,  or  a  month,  or  a 
year,"  the  march  was  stayed,  and  the  moment  that  the 
cloud  lifted  "  by  day  or  by  night,"  the  encampment  was 
broken  up  and  Ae  long  procession  was  got  into  marching 
order  without  an  instant's  pause,  to  follow  its  gliding 
motion  wherever  it  led  and  however  long  it  lasted. 
First  to  follow  was  the  ark  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
Levites,  and  behind  it,  separated  by  some  space,  came 
the  "  standard  of  the  camp  of  the  children  of  Judah,  and 
then  the  other  tribef  in  their  order."  Surely  there  was 
no  place  here  for  Hobab's  skill,  and  if  Moses  had  re- 
membered how  their  marching  and  their  encampments 
were  fixed,  he  need  not  have  been  so  anxious  to  secure 
his  sharp  eyes. 

We  have  the  same  Divine  guidance,  if  we  will ;  in 
sober  reality  we  have  God's  presence;  and  waiting 
hearts  which  have  ceased  from  self-will  may  receive 
leading  as  real  as  ever  the  pillar  gave  to  Israel 

God's  providence  does  still  shape  our  paths,  and  GocTi 

•  f 


26o  MOSES  AND  HOBAB,  [SERlL 

Spirit  will  direct  us  within,  and  God*s  word  will  counsel 
us.  If  we  will  wait  and  watch  we  shall  not  be  left  un- 
directed. It  is  wonderful  how  much  practical  wisdom 
about  the  smallest  perplexities  of  daily  life  comes  to  men 
who  keep  both  their  feet  and  their  wishes  still  until 
Providence — or,  as  the  world  prefers  to  call  it,  "  circum- 
stances " — clears  a  path  for  them.  No  doubt  in  all  our 
lives  there  come  times  when  we  seem  to  have  been 
brought  into  a  blind  alley,  and  cannot  see  where  we  are 
to  get  out ;  but  it  is  very-  rare  indeed  that  we  do  not  see 
one  step  in  advance,  the  duty  which  lies  next  us.  And 
be  sure  of  this,  that  if  we  are  content  to  see  but  one  step 
at  a  time,  and  take  it,  we  shall  find  our  way  made  plain. 
The  river  winds,  and  often  we  seem  on  a  lake  without  an 
exit  Then  is  the  time  to  go  half-speed,  and,  doubtless, 
when  we  get  a  little  farther,  the  overlapping  hills  on  either 
bank  will  part,  and  the  gorge  will  open  out  We  do  not 
need  to  see  it  a  mile  off;  enough  if  we  see  it  when  we 
are  close  upon  it  It  may  be  as  narrow  and  grim,  with 
slippery  black  cliffs  towering  on  either  side  of  the  narrow 
ribbon  of  the  stream,  as  the  canons  of  American  rivers, 
but  it  will  float  our  boat  into  broader  reaches  and  onwards 
to  the  great  sea. 

Do  not  seek  to  outran  God's  guidance,  to  see  what 
you  are  to  do  a  year  hence,  or  to  act  before  you  are  sure 
of  what  is  His  will ;  do  not  let  your  wishes  get  in  advance 
of  the  pillar  and  the  ark,  and  you  will  be  kept  firom  many 
a  mistake,  and  led  into  a  region  of  deep  peace.  Our 
blunders  mostly  come  from  letting  our  wishes  interpret 
our  duties,  or  hide  from  us  plain  indications  of  unwelcome 


xv.l  MOSES  AND  HOBAB.  a6i 

tasks.  We  arc  all  apt  to  do  like  Nelson,  and  put  the 
telescope  to  the  blind  eye  when  a  signal  is  flying  that  we 
dislike.  No  doubt  sometimes  even  docile  hearts  make 
mistakes,  but  no  man  who  has  not  tried  it  would  conceive 
how  many  of  the  highest  results  of  practical  wisdom  are 
secured  by  the  simple  in  heart,  whose  only  skill  is  to  wait 
on  the  Lord  and  be  guided  by  Him. 

The  old  injunction  is  still  our  duty  and  our  wisdom : 
"  Go  after  the  ark,  yet  there  shall  be  a  space  between  it 
and  you ;  come  not  near  it,  that  ye  may  know  the  way  ye 
ought  to  go."  If  we  impatiently  press  too  close  on  the 
heels  of  our  guide  we  lose  the  guidance.  There  must  be 
a  reverent  following,  which  allows  indications  of  the  way 
full  time  to  develop  themselves,  and  does  not  fling  itself 
into  new  circumstances  on  the  first  blush  of  apparent  duty. 
The  merely  worldly  virtues  of  prudence,  caution,  judgment 
unbiassed  by  inclination,  and  the  like,  have  all  a  Christian 
side,  and  are  all  included  and  glorified  in  the  elements  of 
that  temper  which  religion  enjoins  as  certain  to  be  re- 
warded with  the  Divine  guidance :  "  The  meek  will  he 
guide  in  judgment,  and  the  meek  will  he  teach  his  way." 

In  the  strength  of  that  confidence  let  us  turn  away 
from  dependence  upon  human  guides,  and  lift  our  eyes 
to  Him  with  the  voice  which  is  at  once  a  prayer  and  a 
TOW  :  '*  Thou  shalt  guide  me  with  thy  counsel."  Better 
to  take  Moses  for  our  example  when  he  prayed,  as  the 
ark  set  forward  and  the  march  began,  "  Arise,  Lord,  and 
let  thine  enemies  be  scattered,"  than  to  follow  him  in 
eagerly  seeking  some  Hobab  or  other  to  show  us  where 
we  should  go.     Better  to  commit  our  resting  times  to 


263  MOSES  AND  HOBAB.  [siRM. 

God  with  Moses'  prayer  when  the  ark  halted,  "  Return, 
O  Lord,  unto  the  many  thousands  of  Israel/'  and  so  to 
repose  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty,  than  to  seek 
safety  in  haying  some  man  with  us  '*  who  knows  how  we 
are  to  encamp  in  this  wilderness."  God's  presence  is 
enough  for  toil  and  enough  for  rest.  If  He  journey  with 
us  by  the  way,  He  will  abide  with  us  when  nightfall 
comes;  and  His  companionship  will  be  sufficient  for 
direction  on  the  road,  and  for  solace  and  safety  in  the 
evening  camp. 

We  have  often  to  travel  by  solitary  ways.  Some  of  us 
have  to  journey  all  alone,  with  no  fellow-travellers  for 
society  or  for  succour.  Some  of  us  have  perplexed  paths 
to  tread.  Some  of  us  have  sad  memories  of  times  when 
we  journeyed  in  company  with  those  who  will  never  share 
our  tent  or  counsel  our  steps  any  more,  and,  as  we  sit 
lonely  by  our  watchfire  in  the  wUdemess,  have  aching 
hearts  and  silent  nights.  Some  of  us  may  be,  as  yet, 
rich  in  companions  and  helpers,  whose  words  are  wisdom, 
whose  wishes  are  love  to  us,  and  may  tremble  as  we 
think  that  one  day  either  they  or  we  shall  have  to  tramp 
on  by  ourselves.  But  for  us  all,  cast  down  and  lonely, 
or  still  blessed  with  dear  ones  and  afraid  to  live  without 
them,  there  is  a  presence  which  departs  never,  which 
will  move  before  us  as  we  journey,  and  hover  over  us  as 
a  shield  when  we  rest ;  which  will  be  a  cloud  to  veil  the 
sun  that  it  smite  us  not  by  day,  and  will  redden  into  fire 
as  the  night  falls,  being  ever  brightest  when  we  need  it 
most,  and  burning  clearest  of  all  in  the  valley  at  the  end, 
where  its  guidance  will  only  cease  because  then  "the 


XV.]  MOSES  AND  HOBAB,  263 

Lamb  that  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  will  lead  them.'' 
"  This  God  is  our  God  for  ever  and  ever ;  he  will  be  oui 
guide  even  unto  death." 

IV.  A  final  thought  suggested  by  this  incident  is,  that 
our  craving  for  a  human  guide  has  been  lovingly  met  in  the. 
gift  of  Christ. 

Moses  sought  to  secure  this  Midianite  guide  because 
he  was  a  native  of  the  desert,  and  had  travelled  all  over 
it  His  experience  was  his  qualification.  We  have  a 
brother  who  has  Himself  travelled  every  foot  of  the  road 
by  which  we  have  to  go,  and  His  footsteps  have  marked 
out  with  blood  a  track  for  us  to  follow,  and  have  trodden 
a  footpath  through  the  else  pathless  waste.  He  knows 
"  how  to  encamp  in  this  wilderness,"  for  He  Himself  has 
"  tabernacled  among  us,"  and  by  experience  has  learned 
the  weariness  of  the  journey  and  the  perils  of  the 
wilderness. 

His  life  is  our  pattern.  Our  marching  orders  are  brief 
and  simple ;  Follow  your  leader,  and  plant  your  feet  in 
His  footprints. 

That  is  the  sum  of  all  ethics,  and  the  vade  mecum  for 
practical  life.  However  diverse  our  duties  and  circum- 
stances are,  the  principles  which  come  out  in  the  Divine 
record  of  that  fair  life  and  wondrous  death  will  fit  with 
equal  closeness  to  us  all ;  and  so  Divine  and  all  com- 
prehensive is  it  that  it  abides  as  the  sufficient  pattern  foi 
every  class,  for  every  stage,  for  every  variety  of  character, 
for  every  era,  and  every  land,  till  the  end,  and  beyond 
the  end. 


264  MOSES  AND  HO  BAB.  [serm.  xv. 

Our  poor  weak  hearts  long  for  a  brother^s  hand  to  hold 
us  up,  for  a  brother's  voice  to  whisper  a  word  of  cheer, 
for  a  brother's  example  to  animate  as  well  as  to  instruct 
An  abstract  law  of  right  is  but  a  cold  guide,  like  the  stars 
that  shine  keen  in  the  polar  winter.  It  is  hard  even  to 
find  in  the  bare  thought  of  an  unseen  God  guiding  us 
by  His  unseen  Spirit  within  and  His  unseen  Providence 
without,  the  solidity  and  the  warmth  which  we  need. 
Therefore  we  have  mercifully  received  God  manifest  in 
the  flesh,  a  Brother  to  be  our  guide  and  the  Captain  of 
our  salvation. 

To  Him  then  transfer  all  those  feelings  of  confidence 
and  affection  too  often  lavished  on  men.  The  noblest 
use  for  the  precious  ointment  of  love,  which  the  poorest 
of  us  bears  in  the  alabaster-box  of  the  heart,  is  to  break 
it  on  His  head. 

Thus  loving  and  following  Him,  we  shall  be  set  free 
from  undue  dependence  on  human  helpers  whilst  they 
are  with  us,  from  eagerness  to  secure  them,  from  dread  of 
losing  them,  from  despair  when  they  depart  Perplexities 
will  disappear.  Duty  will  become  plain.  Life  will  not 
be  a  weary  march  through  an  unknown  land  where  we 
have  to  choose  our  path  by  our  own  poor  wisdom,  and 
death  is  often  the  penalty  of  a  blunder.  All  our  duty  and 
joy  lie  in  the  one  command,  "  Follow  me ; "  and  if  we 
only  ask  Him  to  be  with  us  "  instead  of  eyes  "  and  accept 
His  gentle  leading,  we  shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  but 
may  plunge  into  thickest  night  and  the  most  unknown 
land,  assured  that  He  will  *'  lead  us  by  a  right  way  to  the 
city  of  habitation." 


SERMON   XVI. 

THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLE& 

St.  Matthew  z.  5. 
Tbfese  twelve  Jesus  sent  forth. 

AND  half  of  "  these  twelve  "  are  never  heard  of  again  at 
doing  any  work  for  Christ  Peter  and  James  and 
John  we  know ;  the  other  James  and  Judas  have  possibly 
left  us  short  letters ;  Matthew  gives  us  a  Gospel ;  and  of 
all  the  rest  no  trace  is  left.  Some  of  them  are  never  so 
much  as  named  again,  except  in  the  list  at  the  beginning 
of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles ;  and  none  of  them  except  the 
three  who  "  seemed  to  be  pillars  "  appear  to  have  been 
of  much  imporUnce  in  the  early  dififusion  of  the  gospel 

There  are  many  instructive  and  interesting  points  in 
reference  to  the  Apostolate.  The  number  of  twelve,  in 
obvious  allusion  to  the  tribes  of  Israel,  proclaims  the 
eternal  certainty  of  the  Divine  promises  to  His  people, 
and  the  dignity  of  the  New  Testament  Church  as  theii 
true  heir.  The  ties  of  relationship  which  knit  so  many 
of  the  Apostles  together,  the  order  of  the  names  varying, 
but  within  certain  Hmits,  in  the  different  catalogues,  the 
uncultivated  provincial  rudeness  of  most  of  them,  would 


266  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.  [skrm. 

all  afford  material  for  important  reflections.  But, 
perhaps,  not  the  least  important  fact  about  the  Apostolatc 
is  that  one  which  we  have  referred,  which  like  the  names 
of  countries  on  the  map,  escapes  notice  because  it  is 
"  writ "  so  "  large  " — namely,  the  small  place  which  the 
Apostles  as  a  body  fill  in  the  subsequent  narrative,  and 
the  entire  obUvion  into  which  so  many  of  them  pass  fi-om 
the  moment  of  their  appointment 

It  is  to  that  fact  that  we  wish  to  turn  attention  now.  It 
may  suggest  some  considerations  worth  pondering,  and 
among  other  things,  may  help  to  show  the  exaggeration 
of  the  functions  of  the  office  by  the  opposite  extremes  of 
priests  and  rationalists.  The  one  school  makes  it  the 
depositary  of  exclusive  supernatural  powers;  the  other 
regards  it  as  a  master-stoke  of  organization,  to  which  the 
early  rapid  growth  of  Christianity  was  largely  due.  The 
facts  seem  to  show  that  it  was  neither. 

L  The  first  thought  which  this  peculiar  and  unexpected 
silence  suggests  is  of  the  Tru<  Worker  in  the  Churcfis 
progress. 

The  way  in  which  the  New  Testament  drops  these 
Apostles  is  of  a  piece  with  the  whole  tone  of  the  Bible. 
Throughout,  men  are  introduced*  into  its  narratives  and 
allowed  to  slip  out  with  well-marked  indifference.  No- 
where do. we  get  more  vivid,  penetrating  portraiture,  but 
nowhere  do  we  see  such  carelessness  about  following  the 
fortunes  or  completing  the  biographies  even  of  those  who 
have  filled  the  largest  space  in  its  pages. 

Recall,  for  example,  the  way  in  which    the    New 


XVI.]  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES,  ^ 

Testament  deals  with  "  the  very  chiefest  **  Apostles,  the 
illustrious  triad  of  Peter,  James,  and  John.  The  first 
escapes  from  prison ;  we  see  him  hammering  at  Mary's 
door  in  the  grey  of  the  morning,  and  after  brief,  eager 
talk  with  his  friends  he  vanishes  to  hide  in  "  another 
place,"  and  is  no  more  heard  of,  except  for  a  moment  in 
the  great  council,  held  in  Jerusalem,  about  the  admission 
of  Gentiles  to  the  Church.  The  second  of  the  three  is 
killed  off  in  a  parenthesis.  The  third  is  only  seen  twice 
in  the  Book  of  the  Acts,  as  a  silent  companion  of  PetCJ 
at  a  miracle  and  before  the  Sanhedrim.  Remember  how 
Paul  is  left  in  his  own  hired  house,  within  sight  of  trial 
and  sentence,  and  neither  the  original  writer  of  the  book 
nor  any  later  hand  thought  it  worth  while  to  add  three 
lines  to  tell  the  world  what  became  of  him.  A  strange 
way  to  write  history,  and  a  most  imperfect  narrative, 
surely.  Yes,  unless  there  be  some  peculiarity  in  the 
purpose  of  the  book,  which  explains  this  cold-blooded, 
inartistic,  and  tantalising  habit  of  letting  men  leap  upon 
the  stage  as  if  they  had  dropped  from  the  clouds,  and 
vanish  from  it  as  abruptly  as  if  they  had  fallen  through  a 
trap-door. 

Such  a  peculiarity  there  is.  One  of  the  three  to  whom 
we  have  referred  has  explained  it  in  the  words  with  which 
he  closes  his  Gospel,  words  which  might  stand  for  the 
motto  of  the  whole  book,  "  These  are  written  that  ye 
might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God."  The  true 
purpose  is  not  to  speak  of  men  except  in  so  far  as  they 
**  bore  witness  to  that  light "  and  were  illuminated  for  a 
moment  by  contact  with  Him.     From  the  beginning  the 


268  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES,  [serm. 

true  "  Hero  "  of  the  Bible  is  God ;  its  theme  is  His  self- 
revelation  culminating  for  evermore  in  the  Man  Jesus 
All  other  men  interest  the  writers  only  as  they  are 
subsidiary  or  antagonistic  to  that  revelation.  As  long  as 
that  breath  blows  through  them  they  are  music;  else 
they  are  but  common  reeds.  Men  are  nothing  except 
as  instruments  and  organs  of  God.  He  is  all,  and  His 
whole  fulness  is  in  Jesus  Christ  Christ  is  the  sole 
worker  in  the  progress  of  His  Church.  That  is  the 
teaching  of  all  the  New  Testament  The  thought  is 
expressed  in  the  deepest,  simplest  form  in  His  own 
unapproachable  words,  unfathomable  as  they  are  in  their 
depth  of  meaning,  and  inexhaustible  in  their  power  to 
strengthen  and  to  cheer :  **  I  am  the  vine,  ye  are  the 
branches,  without  me  ye  can  do  nothing."  It  shapes 
the  whole  treatment  of  the  history  in  the  so-called  ^*  Acts 
of  the  Apostles,"  which  by  its  very  first  sentence  pro- 
claims itself  to  be  the  Acts  of  the  ascended  Jesus,  "  the 
former  treatise"  being  declared  to  have  had  for  its 
subject  "  all  that  Jesus  began  to  do  and  teach  "  while  on 
earth,  and  this  treatise  being  manifestly  the  continuance 
of  the  same  theme,  and  the  record  of  the  heavenly 
activity  of  the  Lord.  So  the  thought  runs  through  all 
the  book  :  *'  The  help  that  is  done  on  earth,  He  does  it 
all  himselt" 

So  let  us  think  of  Him  and  of  His  relation  to  us  as 
well  as  to  that  early  Church.  His  continuous  energy  is 
pouring  down  on  us  if  we  will  accept  it  In  us,  for  us, 
by  us  He  works.  "My  father  worketh  hitherto,"  said 
Ht  when  herc^  ''and  I  work;**  and  now,  exalted  on 


XVI.]  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.  269 

high,  He  has  passed  into  that  same  Divine  Repose, 
which  is  at  the  same  time  the  most  energetic  Divine 
Activity.  He  is  all  in  all  to  His  people.  He  is  all  their 
strength,  wisdom,  and  righteousness.  They  are  but  the 
clouds  irradiated  by  the  sun  and  bathed  in  its  brightness ; 
He  is  the  light  which  flames  in  their  grey  mist  and  turns 
it  to  a  glory.  They  are  but  the  belts  and  cranks  and 
wheels;  He  is  the  power.  They  are  but  the  channel, 
muddy  and  dry ;  He  is  the  flashing  life  that  fills  it  and 
makes  it  a  joy.  They  are  the  body ;  He  is  the  soul 
dwelling  in  every  part  to  save  it  from  corruption  and 
give  movement  and  warmth.  ^ 

"Thou  art  the  organ,  whose  full  breath  it  thunder | 
I  am  the  keys,  beneath  thy  fingers  pressed." 

If  this  be  true,  how  it  should  deliver  us  from  all  ovei 
estimate  of  men,  to  which  our  human  afFoctions  and  oui 
feeble  faith  tempt  us  so  sorely  1  There  is  one  man,  and 
One  man  only,  whose  biogrnphy  is  a  "  Gospel,"  who  owes 
nothing  to  circumstances,  and  who  originates  the  power 
which  He  wields — One  who  is  a  new  beginning,  and  has 
changed  the  whole  current  of  human  history,  One  to 
whom  we  are  right  to  bring  offerings  of  the  gold,  and 
incense,  and  myrrh  of  our  hearts,  and  wills,  and  minds, 
which  it  is  blasphemy  and  degradation  to  lay  at  the  feet 
of  any  others.  We  may  utterly  love,  trust,  and  obey 
Jesus  Christ  We  dare  not  do  so  to  any  other.  The 
inscription  written  over  the  whole  book,  that  it  may  be 
transcribed  on  our  whole  nature,  is,  "  No  man  any  more 
save  Jesus  only." 


t/o  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.  [serm. 

If  this  thought  be  true,  what  confidence  it  ought  to 
give  us  as  we  think  of  the  tasks  and  fortunes  of  the 
Church  !  If  we  think  only  of  the  difficulties  and  of  the 
enormous  task  before  us,  so  disproportioned  to  our  weak 
powers,  we  shall  be  disposed  to  agree  with  our  enemies, 
who  talk  as  if  Christianity  was  on  the  point  of  perishing, 
as  they  have  been  doing  ever  since  it  began.  But  the 
outlook  is  wonderfully  different  when  we  take  Christ  into 
the  account  We  are  very  apt  to  leave  Him  out  of  the 
reckoning.  But  one  man  with  Christ  to  back  him  is 
always  in  the  majority.  He  flings  his  sword  clashing 
into  one  scale,  and  it  weighs  down  all  that  is  in  the  other. 
The  walls  are  very  lofty  and  strong,  and  the  besiegers 
few  and  weak,  badly  armed,  and  quite  unfit  for  the 
assault;  but  if  we  lift  our  eyes  high  enough,  we,  too, 
shall  see  a  man  with  a  drawn  sword  over  against  us,  and 
our  hearts  may  leap  up  in  assured  confidence  of  victory 
as  we  recognise  in  Him  the  Captain  of  the  Lord's  Host, 
who  has  already  overcome,  and  will  make  us  valiant  in 
fight  and  more  than  conquerors. 

When  conscious  of  our  own  weakness,  and  tempted  to 
think  of  our  task  as  heavy,  or  when  complacent  in  our 
own  power,  and  tempted  to  regard  our  task  as  easy,  let 
us  think  of  His  ever-present  work  in  and  for  His  people 
till  it  braces  us  for  all  duty,  and  rebukes  our  easy-going 
idleness.  Surely  from  that  thought  of  the  active 
ascended  Christ  may  come  to  many  of  His  slothful 
followers  the  pleading  question,  as  from  His  own  lips, 
"Dost  thou  not  care  that  thou  hast  left  me  to  serve 
•lo&e  ?**    Surely  to  us  all  it  should  bring  inspiration  and 


XVL]  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.  271 

strength,  courage  and  confidence,  deliverance  from  man, 
and  elevation  above  the  reverence  of  blind  impersonal 
forces.  Surely  we  may  all  lay  to  heart  the  grand  lesson 
that  union  with  Him  is  our  only  strength,  and  oblivion 
of  ourselves  our  highest  wisdom.  Surely  he  has  best 
learned  his  true  place  and  the  worth  of  Jesus  Christ  who 
abides  with  unmoved  humility  at  His  feet,  and,  like  the 
lonely  lowly  forerunner,  puts  away  all  temptations  to 
self-assertion  while  joyfully  accepting  it  as  the  law  of  his 
life  to 

«'  Fade  in  the  light  of  the  planet  he  lorei^ 
To  fiide  in  his  lore  and  to  die." 

Blessed  is  he  who  is  glad  to  say,  ^  He  must  increase, 
I  must  decrease  1 " 

IL  This  same  silence  of  Scripture  as  to  so  many  of 
the  Apostles  may  be  taken  as  suggesting  what  the  real 
work  of  these  delegated  workers  was. 

It  certainly  seems  very  strange  that  if  they  were  the 
possessors  of  such  extraordinary  powers  as  the  Sacra- 
mentarian  theory  implies,  we  should  hear  so  little  of 
them  in  the  narrative.  The  silence  of  Scripture  about 
them  goes  a  long  way  to  discredit  such  ideas,  while  it  is 
entirely  accordant  with  a  more  modest  view  of  the 
Apostolic  office. 

What  was  an  Apostle's  function  during  the  life  of 
Christ?  One  of  the  evangelists  divides  it  into  three 
portions — "  to  be  with  Jesus,  to  preach  the  kingdom,  to 
cast  out  devils  and  to  heal"  There  is  nothing  in  these 
offices  peculiar  to  them.    The  seventy  had  miracukms 


27a  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.      [serm. 

powers  too,  and  some  at  least  were  our  Lord's  com- 
panions and  preachers  of  His  kingdom  who  were  simple 
disciples.  What  was  an  Apostle's  function  after  the 
resurrection  ?  Peter's  words,  on  proposing  the  election 
of  a  new  apostle,  lay  down  the  duty  as  simply  "  to  bear 
witness  "  of  that  resurrection.  Not  supernatural  channels 
of  mysterious  grace,  not  lords  over  God's  heritage,  not 
evtn  leaders  of  the  Church,  but  bearers  of  a  testimony 
to  the  great  historical  fact,  on  the  acceptance  of  which 
all  belief  in  an  historical  Christ  depended  then  and 
depends  now.  Each  of  the  greater  of  the  apostles  is 
penetrated  with  the  same  thought.  Paul  disclaims 
anything  beside  in  his  **  Not  I,  but  the  grace  of  God  in 
me."  Peter  thrusts  the  question  at  the  staring  crowd, 
**  Why  look  ye  on  us  as  though  by  our  power  or  holiness 
we  had  made  this  man  to  walk  ?  '*  John,  in  his  calm 
way,  tells  his  children  at  Ephesus,  **  Ye  need  not  that 
any  man  teach  you." 

Such  an  idea  of  the  Apostolic  office  is  far  more 
reasonable  and  accordant  with  Scripture  than  a  figment 
about  unexampled  powers  and  authority  in  the  Church. 
It  accounts  for  the  qualifications  as  stated  in  the  same 
address,  which  merely  secure  the  validity  of  their  testi* 
mony.  The  one  thing  that  must  be  found  in  an  Apostle 
was  that  he  should  have  been  in  familiar  intercourse 
with  Christ  during  his  earthly  life,  both  before  and  after 
His  resurrection,  in  order  that  he  might  be  able  to  say, 
I  knew  Him  well ;  I  know  that  he  died ;  I  know  that 
He  rose  again ;  I  saw  Him  go  up  to  heaven.  For  such 
a  work  there  was  no  need  for  men  of  commanding 


XVI.]  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES,  273 

power.  Plain,  simple,  honest  men  who  had  the  requisite 
eye-witness  were  sufficient  The  guidance  and  the 
missionary  work  of  the  Church  need  not  necessarily  be 
in  their  hands,  and,  in  fact,  does  not  seem  to  have  been. 
In  harmony  with  this  view  of  the  office  and  its  requisites, 
we  find  that  Paul  rests  the  validity  of  his  Apostolate  on 
the  fact  that  "  He  was  seen  of  me  also,"  and  regards 
that  vision  as  his  true  appointment  which  left  him  not 
"  one  whit  behind  the  very  chiefest  apostles."  Miracu- 
lous gifts  indeed  they  had,  and  miraculous  gifts  they 
imparted;  but  in  both  instances  others  shared  their 
powers  with  them.  It  was  no  apostle  who  laid  his  hands 
on  the  blinded  Saul  in  that  house  in  Damascus  and  said, 
"  Receive  the  Holy  Ghost."  An  apostle  stood  by  passive 
and  wondering  when  the  Holy  Ghost  fell  on  Cornelius 
and  his  comrades.  In  reality  Apostolic  succession  is 
absurd,  because  there  is  nothing  to  succeed  to,  except 
what  cannot  be  transmitted,  personal  knowledge  of  the 
reality  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  To  establish 
that  fact  as  indubitable  history  is  to  lay  the  foundation  of 
the  Christian  Church,  and  the  twelve  plain  men  who  did 
that  needed  no  superstitious  mist  around  them  to 
magnify  their  greatness. 

In  so  far  as  any  succession  to  them  or  any  devolution 
of  their  office  is  possible,  all  Christian  men  inherit  it,  for 
to  bear  witness  of  the  living  power  of  the  risen  Lord  is 
still  the  office  and  honour  of  every  believing  soul  It  is 
still  true  that  the  sharpest  weapon  which  any  man  can 
wield  for  Christ  is  the  simple  adducing  of  his  own 
personal  experience.     *'That  which  we  have  letn  and 


274  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.  [SIRM. 

handled  we  declare  **  is  still  the  best  form  into  which  oui 
preaching  can  be  cast  And  such  a  voice  every  man  and 
woman  who  has  found  the  sweetness  and  the  power  of 
Christ  filling  their  own  souls,  is  bound — rather  let  us  say 
is  privileged — to  lift  up:  "This  honour  have  all  the 
saints."  Christ  is  the  true  worker,  and  all  our  work  is 
but  to  proclaim  Him,  and  what  He  has  done  and  is 
doing  for  ourselves  and  for  all  men. 

IIL  We  may  gather  too  the  lesson  of  how  often  faith- 
ful work  is  unrecorded  and  forgotten. 

No  doubt  those  Apostles  who  have  no  place  in  {he 
history  toiled  honestly  and  did  their  Lord's  commands 
and  oblivion  has  swallowed  it  alL  Bartholomew  and 
"  Lebbseus,  whose  surname  was  Thaddaeus,"  and  the  rest 
of  them,  have  no  place  in  the  record,  and  their  obscure 
work  is  faded,  faithful  and  good  as  certainly  it  was. 

So  it  will  be  sooner  or  later  with  us  all.  For  most  of 
us,  our  service  has  to  be  unnoticed  and  unknown,  and 
the  memory  of  our  poor  work  will  live  perhaps  for  a  year 
or  two  in  the  hearts  of  some  few  who  loved  us,  but  will 
fade  wholly  when  they  follow  us  into  the  silent  land. 
Well,  be  it  so;  we  shall  sleep  none  the  less  sweetly, 
though  none  be  talking  about  us  over  our  heads.  The 
world  has  a  short  memory,  and,  as  the  years  go  on,  the 
list  that  it  has  to  remember  grows  so  crowded  that  it  is 
harder  and  harder  to  find  room  to  write  a  new  name  on 
it,  or  to  read  the  old.  The  letters  on  the  tombstones  are 
soon  erased  by  the  feet  that  tramp  across  the  church- 
yard.    All  that  matters  very  little.     The  notoriety  of  oiu 


XVL]  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES,  275 

work  is  of  no  consequence.  The  earnestness  and  ac- 
curacy with  which  we  strike  our  blow  is  all  important ; 
but  it  matters  nothing  how  far  it  echoes.  It  is  not  the 
heaven  of  heavens  to  be  talked  about,  nor  does  a  man's 
life  consist  in  the  abundance  of  newspaper  or  other  para- 
graphs about  him.  "  The  love  of  fame "  is,  no  doubt, 
sometimes  found  in  "  minds  "  otherwise  **  noble,"  but  in 
itself  is  very  much  the  reverse  of  noble.  We  shall  do 
our  work  best,  and  be  saved  from  much  festering  anxiety 
which  corrupts  our  purest  service  and  fevers  our  serenest 
thoughts,  if  we  once  fairly  make  up  our  minds  to  working 
unnoticed  and  unknown,  and  determine  that  whether  our 
post  be  a  conspicuous  or  an  obscure  one  we  shall  fill  it 
to  the  utmost  of  our  power ;  careless  of  praise  or  censure 
because  our  judgment  is  with  our  God ;  careless  whether 
we  are  unknown  or  well  known,  because  we  are  known 
altogether  to  Him. 

The  magnitude  of  our  work  in  men's  eyes  b  as  little 
important  as  the  noise  of  it  Christ  gave  all  the  Apostles 
their  tasks — to  some  of  them  to  found  the  Gentile 
churches,  to  some  of  them  to  leave  to  all  generations 
precious  teaching,  to  some  of  them  none  of  these  things. 
What  then  ?  Were  the  Peters  and  the  Johns  more  highly 
favoured  than  the  others  ?  Was  their  work  greater  in 
His  sight  ?  Not  so.  To  Him  all  service  done  from  the 
same  motive  is  the  same,  and  His  measure  of  excellence 
b  the  quantity  of  love  and  spiritual  force  in  our  deeds, 
not  the  width  of  the  area  over  which  they  spread.  An 
estuary  that  goes  wandering  over  miles  of  shallows  may 
have  less  water  in  it,  and  may  creep  more  languidly,  than 


276  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.  [serm. 

the  torrent  that  thunders  through  some  narrow  gorge. 
The  deeds  that  stand  highest  on  the  records  in  heaven 
are  not  those  which  we  vulgarly  call  great.  Many  "a 
cup  of  cold  water  only  "  will  be  found  to  have  been  rated 
higher  there  than  jewelled  golden  chalices  brimming 
with  rare  wines.  God's  treasures,  where  He  keeps  His 
children's  gifts,  will  be  like  many  a  mother's  secret  store 
of  relics  of  her  children,  full  of  things  of  no  value,  what 
the  world  calls  "  trash,"  but  precious  in  His  eyes  for  the 
love's  sake  that  was  in  them. 

All  service  which  is  done  from  the  same  motive  in  the 
same  force  is  of  the  same  worth  in  His  eyes.  It  does  not 
matter  whether  you  have  the  gospel  in  a  penny  Testament 
printed  on  thin  paper  with  black  ink  and  done  up  m 
cloth,  or  in  an  illuminated  missal  glowing  in  gold  and 
colour,  painted  with  loving  care  on  fair  parchment,  and 
bound  in  jewelled  ivory.  And  so  it  matters  little  about 
the  material  or  the  scale  on  which  we  express  our  devotion 
and  our  aspirations ;  all  depends  on  what  we  copy,  not 
on  the  size  of  the  canvas  on  which,  or  on  the  material 
in  which,  we  copy  it  **  Small  service  is  true  service 
while  it  lasts,"  and  the  unnoticed  insignificant  servants 
may  do  work  every  whit  as  good  and  noble  as  the  tr>ost 
widely  known,  to  whom  have  been  intrusted  by  Christ 
tasks  that  mould  the  ages. 

IV.  Finally  we  may  add  that  forgotten  work  is  re- 
membered, and  unrecorded  names  are  recorded  above. 

The  names  of  these  almost  anonymous  apostles  have 
QO  place  in  the  records  of  the  advancement  of  the  Church 


XVL]  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES.  177 

or  of  the  development  of  Christian  doctrine.  They  drop 
out  of  the  narrative  after  the  list  in  the  first  chapter  of  the 
Acts.  But  we  do  hear  of  them  once  more.  In  that  last 
vision  of  the  great  city  which  the  seer  beheld  descending 
from  God,  we  read  that  in  its  "foundations  were  the 
names  of  the  twelve  Apostles  of  the  Lamb."  All  were 
graven  there — the  inconspicuous  names  carved  on  no 
record  of  earth,  as  well  as  the  familiar  ones  cut  deep  in 
the  rock  to  be  seen  of  all  men  for  ever. 

At  the  least  that  grand  image  may  tell  as  that  when 
the  perfect  state  of  the  Church  is  realised,  the  work 
which  these  twelve  men  did  when  their  testimony  laid  its 
foundation,  will  be  for  ever  associated  with  their  names. 
Unrecorded  on  earth,  they  are  written  in  heaven. 

The  forgotten  work  and  workers  are  remembered  by 
Christ  His  faithful  heart  and  all-seeing  eye  keep  them 
ever  in  view.  The  world,  and  the  Church  whom  these 
humble  men  helped,  may  forget,  yet  will  not  He  forget 
From  whatever  muster-roll  of  benefactors  and  helpers 
their  names  may  be  absent,  they  will  be  in  His  list  The 
Apostle  Paul,  in  his  epistle  to  the  Phihppians,  has  a 
saying  in  which  his  delicate  courtesy  is  beautifully  con- 
ipicuous,  where  he  half  apologizes  for  not  sending  his 
greetings  "  to  others  my  fellow-workers "  by  name,  and 
reminds  them  that  however  their  names  may  be  unwritten 
in  his  letter,  they  have  been  inscribed  by  a  mightier  hand 
on  a  better  page,  and  "  arc  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  hfe." 
It  matters  very  little  from  what  record  ours  may  be  absent 
80  long  as  they  are  found  there.  Let  us  rejoice  that, 
though  we  may  live  obscure  and  die  fozgotten,  we  may 


27S  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES,  [serm. 

have  our  names  written  on  the  breastplate  of  our  High 
Priest  as  He  stands  in  the  Holy  Place,  the  breastplate 
which  lies  close  to  His  heart  of  love,  and  is  fixed  ^o  His 
arm  of  power. 

The  forgotten  and  unrecorded  work  lives  too  in  the 
great  whole.  The  fruit  of  our  labour  may  perhaps  not  be 
separable  from  that  of  others,  any  more  than  the  sowers 
can  go  into  the  reaped  harvest-field  and  indentify  the 
gathered  ears  which  have  sprung  from  the  seed  that  they 
sowed,  but  it  is  there  all  the  same ;  and  whosoever  may 
be  unable  to  pick  out  each  man's  share  in  the  blessed 
total  outcome,  the  Lord  of  the  Harvest  knows,  and  his 
accurate  proportionment  of  individual  reward  to  individual 
service  will  not  mar  the  companionship  in  the  general 
gladness,  when  "  he  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth  shall 
rejoice  together." 

The  forgotten  work  will  live,  too,  in  the  blessed  results 
to  the  doers.  Whatever  of  recognition  and  honour  we 
may  miss  here,  we  cannot  be  robbed  of  the  blessing  to 
ourselves,  in  the  perpetual  influence  on  our  own  character, 
of  every  piece  of  faithful  even  if  imperfect  service. 
Habits  are  formed,  emotions  deepened,  principles  con- 
finned,  capacities  enlarged  by  every  deed  done  for  Christ, 
which  make  an  over-measure  of  reward  here,  and  in  their 
perfect  form  hereafter  are  heaven.  Nothing  done  for 
Him  is  ever  wasted.  "  Thou  shalt  find  it  after  many  days." 
We  are  all  writing  our  lives,  histories  here,  as  if  with  one 
of  these  *'  manifold  writers  " — a  black  blank  page  beneath 
the  flimsy  sheet  on  which  we  write,  but  presently  the 
black  page  will  be  taken  away,  and  the  writing  will  stand 


xn.]  THE  OBSCURE  APOSTLES,  979 

out  plain  on  the  page  behind  that  we  did  not  see.  .  Life 
is  the  filmy  unsubstantial  page  on  which  our  pen  rests ; 
the  black  page  is  death ;  and  the  page  beneath  is  thai 
indehble  transcript  of  our  earthly  actions,  which  we  shall 
find  waiting  for  us  to  read,  with  shanie  and  confusion  of 
face,  or  with  humble  joy,  in  another  world. 

Then  let  us  do  our  work  for  Christ,  not  much  careful 
whether  it  be  greater  or  smaller,  obscure  or  conspicuous, 
assured  that  whoever  forgets  us  and  it  He  will  remember, 
and  however  our  names  may  be  unrecorded  on  earth  they 
will  be  written  in  heaven,  and  confessed  by  Him  btfere 
His  Father  and  the  holy  angeliL 


SERMON    XVII. 

THE   SOUL'S   PERFECTION. 

Philip.  iiL  15. 

Let  iu  therefore,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be  thus  minded ;  and  if  ia 
anything  ye  be  otherwise  minded,  God  slull  rereal  •▼en  this 
uito  you. 

**  A  S  m&ny  as  be  perfect ; "  and  how  many  may  they 
•^^  be  ?  Surely  a  very  short  bede-roll  would  contain 
their  names ;  or  would  there  be  any  other  but  the  Name 
which  is  above  every  name  upon  it  ?  Part  of  the  answer 
to  such  a  question  may  be  found  in  observing  that 
the  New  Testament  very  frequently  uses  the  word  to 
express  not  so  much  the  idea  of  moral  completeness  as 
that  of  physical  maturity.  For  instance,  when  Paul  says 
that  he  would  have  his  converts  to  be  "  mm  in  under- 
standing," and  when  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  speaks 
of  **  them  that  are  of  full  age,"  the  same  word  is  used 
as  this  "  perfect "  in  our  text.  Qearly  in  such  cases  it 
means  "full  grown,"  as  in  contrast  with  "babes,**  and 
expresses  not  absolute  completeness,  but  what  we  may 
term  a  relative  perfection,  a  certain  maturity  of  character 
and  advanced  stage  of  Christian  attainment,  far  removed 
from  the  infantile  epoch  of  the  Christian  life. 


SERM.  XVII.]     THE  sows  PERFECTION,  381 


Another  contribution  to  the  answer  may  be  found 
in  observing  that  in  this  very  context  these  "  perfect " 
people  are  exhorted  to  cultivate  the  sense  of  not  having 
"  ah-eady  attained,"  and  to  be  constantly  reaching  forth 
to  unattained  heights,  so  that  a  sense  of  imperfection  and 
a  continual  effort  after  higher  life  are  parts  of  Paul's 
"  perfect  man."  And  it  is  to  be  still  further  noticed  that 
on  the  same  testimony  **  perfect  "  people  may  probably 
be  "otherwise  minded;"  by  which  we  understand  not 
divergently  minded  from  one  another,  but  "  otherwise  " 
than  the  true  norm  or  law  of  hfe  would  prescribe,  and  so 
may  stand  in  need  of  the  hope  that  God  will  by  degrees 
bring  them  into  conformity  with  His  will,  and  show  them 
"this,"  namely,  their  divergence  from  his  Pattern  for 
them. 

It  is  worth  our  while  to  look  at  these  large  thoughtg 
thus  involved  in  the  words  before  us. 

L  Then  there  are  people  whom  without  exaggeration 

the  judgment  of  truth  cdMis  perfect. 

The  language  of  the  New  Testament  has  no  scruple  in 
calling  men  ''  saints  "  who  had  many  sins,  and  none  in 
calling  men  perfect  who  had  many  imperfections ;  and  it 
does  so,  not  because  it  has  any  fantastic  theory  about 
religious  emotions  being  the  measure  of  moral  purity, 
but  partly  for  the  reasons  already  referred  to,  and  partly 
because  it  wisely  considers  the  main  thing  about  a 
character  to  be  not  the  degree  to  which  it  has  attained 
completeness  in  its  ideal,  but  what  that  ideal  is.  The 
distance  a  man  has  got  on  his  journey  is  of  less  con- 


283  THE  sours  PERFECTION,  [serm. 

sequence  than  the  direction  in  which  his  face  is  turned 
The  arrow  may  fall  short,  but  to  what  mark  was  it  shot  ? 
In  all  regions  of  life  a  wise  classification  of  men  arranges 
them  according  to  their  aims  rather  than  their  achieve- 
ments. The  visionary  who  attempts  something  high 
and  accomphshes  scarcely  anything  of  it,  is  often  a  far 
nobler  man,  and  his  poor,  broken,  foiled,  resultless  life 
far  more  perfect  than  his  who  aims  at  marks  on  the  low 
levels  and  hits  them  full.  Such  lives  as  these,  full  of 
yearning  and  aspiration,  though  it  be  for  the  most  part 
vain,  are 

"Like  the  young  moon  with  a  ragged  edge 
E'en  in  its  imperfection  beaatiM." 

If  then  it  be  wise  to  rank  men  and  their  pursuits 
according  to  their  aims  rather  than  their  accomplish- 
ments, is  there  one  class  of  aims  so  absolutely  corres- 
ponding to  man's  nature  and  relations  that  to  take  them 
for  one's  own,  and  to  reach  some  measure  of  approxi- 
mation to  them,  may  fairly  be  called  the  perfection  of 
human  nature  ?  Is  there  one  way  of  living  concerning 
which  we  may  say  that  whosoever  adopts  it  has,  in  so  far 
as  he  does  adopt  it,  discerned  and  attained  the  purpose  of 
his  being  ?  The  literal  force  of  the  word  in  our  text  gives 
pertinence  to  that  question,  for  it  distinctly  means 
"  having  reached  the  end."  And  if  that  be  taken  as  the 
meaning,  there  need  be  no  doubt  about  the  answer. 
Grand  old  words  have  taught  us  long  ago  "  Man's  chief 
end  is  to  glorify  God  and  to  enjoy  Him  for  ever."  Yes, 
he  who  lives  for  God  has  taken  that  for  his  aim  which  all 
his  nature  and  all  his  relations  prescribe,  he  is  doing 


XVII.]  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION.  383 


wAat  he  was  made  and  meant  to  do ;  and  however  in- 
complete may  be  its  attainments,  the  lowest  form  of  a 
God-fearing,  God-obeying  life  is  higher  and  more  nearly 
"perfect"  than  the  fairest  career  or  character  against 
which,  as  a  blight  on  all  its  beauty,  the  damning  accu- 
sation way  be  brought,  "  The  God  in  whose  hand  thy 
breath  is,  and  whose  are  all  thy  ways,  thou  hast  not 
glorified." 

People  *»neer  at  "  saints  "  and  point  at  their  failings. 
They  remind  us  of  the  foul  stains  in  David's  career,  for 
instance,  and  ,nock  as  they  ask,  "  Is  this  your  man  after 
God's  own  heart?"  Yes,  he  is;  not  because  religion 
has  a  morality  of  its  own  different  from  that  of  the  world 
(except  as  being  higher),  nor  because  "  saints  "  make  up 
for  adultery  and  murder  by  making  or  singing  psalms, 
but  because  the  main  set  and  current  of  the  life  was 
evidently  tcwards  God  and  goodness,  and  these  hideous 
sins  were  glaring  contradictions,  eddies  and  backwaters, 
as  it  were,  wept  over  with  bitter  self-abasement  and 
conquered  by  strenuous  effort.  Better  a  life  of  Godward 
aspiration  and  straining  after  purity,  even  if  broken  by 
such  a  fall,  so  recovered,  than  one  of  habitual  earthward 
grubbing,  undisturbed  by  gross  sin. 

And  another  reason  warrants  the  application  of  the 
word  to  men  whose  present  is  full  of  incompleteness, 
namely,  rhe  fact  that  such  men  have  in  them  the  germ  of 
a  life  which  has  no  natural  end  but  absolute  completeness. 
The  small  seed  may  grow  very  slowly  in  the  climate  and 
soil  which  it  finds  here,  and  be  only  a  poor  little  bit  of 
ragged  green,  very  shabby  and  inconspicuous  by  the  side 


284  THE  SOUUS  PERFECTION.  [SSRli. 

of  the  native  flowers  of  earth  flaunting  around  it,  but  it 
has  a  Divine  germinant  virtue  within,  and  waits  but 
being  carried  to  its  own  clime  and  **  planted  in  the  house 
of  the  Lord "  above,  to  "  flourish  in  the  courts  of  our 
God,"  when  these  others  with  their  glorious  beauty  have 
faded  away  and  are  flung  out  to  rot 

II.  We  have  set  forth  here  very  distinctly  two  of  the 
iharaderisiics  of  this  perfection. 

The  apostle  in  our  text  exhorts  the  perfect  to  be  '*M«i 
minded."  How  is  that?  Evidently  the  word  points 
back  to  the  previous  clauses,  in  which  he  has  been  des- 
cribing his  own  temper  and  feeling  in  the  Christian  race. 
He  sets  that  before  the  Philippians  as  their  pattern,  or 
rather  invites  them  to  fellowship  with  hira  in  the  estimate 
of  themselves  and  in  their  efibrts  after  higher  attainments. 
"  Be  thus  minded  "  means,  Think  as  I  do  of  yourselves, 
and  do  as  I  do  in  your  daily  life. 

How  did  he  think  of  himself?  He  tells  us  in  the 
sentence  before,  "  Not  as  though  I  were  aheady  perfect 
I  count  not  myself  to  have  apprehended."  So  then  a 
leading  characteristic  of  this  true  Christian  perfection  is 
a  constant  consciousness  of  imperfection.  In  all  fields 
of  effort,  whether  intellectual,  moral,  or  mechanical,  as 
faculty  grows,  consciousness  of  insufficiency  grows  with 
it.  The  farther  we  get  up  the  hill  the  more  we  see  how 
far  it  is  to  the  horixon.  The  more  we  know  the  more 
we  know  our  ignorance.  The  better  we  can  do  the  more 
we  discern  how  much  we  cannot  do.  Only  people  who 
never  have  done  and  never  will  do  anything,  or  else  raw 


xni.]  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION,  285 

apprentices  with  the  mercifully  granted  self-confidence  of 
youth,  which  gets  beaten  out  of  most  of  us  soon  enough, 
think  that  they  can  do  everything. 

In  morals  and  in  Christian  life  the  same  thing  is  true. 
The  measure  of  our  perfection  will  be  the  consciousness 
of  our  imperfection — a  paradox,  but  a  great  truth.  It  is 
plain  enough  that  it  will  be  so.  Conscience  becomes 
more  sensitive  as  we  get  nearer  right  The  worse  a 
man  is  the  less  it  speaks  to  him,  and  the  less  he  hears  it 
When  it  ought  to  thunder  it  whispers  ;  when  we  need  it 
most  it  is  least  active.  The  thick  skin  of  a  savage  will 
not  be  disturbed  by  lying  on  sharp  stones,  while  a 
crumpled  rose-leaf  robs  the  Sybarite  of  his  sleep.  So 
the  habit  of  evil  hardens  the  cuticle  of  conscience,  and 
the  practice  of  goodness  restores  tenderness  and  sensi- 
bility ;  and  many  a  man  laden  with  crime  knows  less  of 
its  tingling  than  some  fair  soul  that  looks  almost  spotless 
to  all  eyes  but  its  own.  One  little  stain  of  rust  will  be 
conspicuous  on  a  brightly  polished  blade,  but  if  it  be  all 
dirty  and  dull  a  dozen  more  or  fewer  wiU  make  little 
difference.  As  men  grow  better  they  become  like  that 
glycerine  barometer  recently  introduced,  on  which  a  fall 
or  a  rise  that  would  have  been  invisible  with  mercury  to 
record  it  takes  up  inches,  and  is  glaringly  conspicuous. 
Good  people  sometimes  wonder,  and  sometimes  are  made 
doubtful  and  sad  about  themselves  by  this  abiding  and 
even  increased  consciousness  of  sin.  There  is  no  need 
to  be  so.  The  higher  the  temperature  the  more  chilling 
would  it  be  to  pass  into  an  ice-house,  and  the  more  our 
lives  axe  Inrought  into  fellowship  with  the  perfect  life  the 


286  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION.  [serm. 

more  shall  we  feel  our  own  shortcomings.  Let  us  be 
thankful  if  our  consciences  speak  to  us  more  loudly  than 
they  used  to  do.  It  is  a  sign  of  growing  holiness,  as  the 
tingling  in  a  frost-bitten  limb  is  of  returning  life.  Let  us 
seek  to  cultivate  and  increase  the  sense  of  our  own 
imperfection,  and  be  sure  that  the  diminution  of  a  con- 
sciousness of  sin  means  not  diminished  power  of  sin,  but 
lessened  horror  of  it,  lessened  perception  of  right,  lessened 
love  of  goodness,  and  is  an  omen  of  death,  not  a  symptom 
of  life.  Painter,  scholar,  craftsman  all  know  that  the 
condition  of  advance  is  the  recognition  of  an  ideal  not 
attained.  Whoever  has  not  before  him  a  standard  to 
which  he  has  not  reached  will  grow  no  more.  If  we  see 
no  faults  in  our  work  we  shall  never  do  any  better.  The 
condition  of  all  Christian,  as  of  all  other  progress,  is  to  be 
drawn  by  that  fair  vision  before  us,  and  to  be  stung  into 
renewed  effort  to  reach  it,  by  the  consciousness  of  present 
imperfection. 

Another  characteristic  to  which  these  perfect  men  are 
exhorted  is  a  constant  striving  after  a  further  advance. 
How  vigorously,  almost  vehemently,  that  temper  is  put 
b  the  context — "  I  follow  after ; "  "I  press  towards  the 
mark ;  *'  and  that  picturesque  "  reaching  forth,"  or,  as  the 
Revised  Version  gives  it,  "  stretching*forward."  The  full 
force  of  the  latter  word  cannot  be  given  in  any  one 
English  equivalent,  but  may  be  clumsily  hinted  by  some 
such  phrase  as  "stretching  one's  self  out  over,"  as  a 
runner  might  do  with  body  thrown  forward  and  arms 
extended  in  front,  and  eagerness  in  every  strained  muscle, 
and  eye  outrunning  foot,  and  hope  clutching  the  goal 


XTii.]  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION,  387 

already.  So  yearning  forward,  and  setting  all  the  current 
of  his  being,  both  faculty  and  desire,  to  the  yet  unreached 
mark,  the  Christian  man  is  to  live.  His  glances  are  not 
to  be  bent  backwards,  but  forwards.  He  is  not  to  be  a 
"  praiser  of  the  past,"  but  a  herald  and  expectant  of  a 
Dobler  future.  He  is  the  child  of  the  day  and  of  the 
morning,  forgetting  the  things  which  are  behind,  and 
ever  yearning  towards  the  things  which  are  before,  and 
drawing  them  to  himself.  To  look  back  is  to  be  stiffened 
into  a  living  death ;  only  with  faces  set  forward  arc  we 
safe  and  well 

This  buoyant  energy  of  hope  and  eflfort  is  to  be  the 
result  of  the  consciousness  of  imperfection  of  which  we 
have  spoken.  Strange  to  many  of  us,  in  some  moods, 
that  a  thing  so  bright  should  spring  up  from  a  thing  so 
dark,  and  that  the  more  we  feel  our  own  shortcomings, 
the  more  hopeful  should  we  be  of  a  future  unlike  the 
past,  and  the  more  earnest  in  our  effort  to  make  that 
future  the  present  There  is  a  type  of  Christian  expe- 
rience not  uncommon  among  devout  people,  in  which  the 
consciousness  of  imperfection  paralyzes  effort  instead  of 
quickening  it ;  men  lament  their  evil,  their  slow  progress 
and  so  on,  and  remain  the  same  year  after  year.  They 
are  stirred  to  no  effort  There  is  no  straining  onwards. 
They  almost  seem  to  lose  the  faith  that  they  can  ever  be 
any  better.  How  different  this  from  the  grand,  whole- 
some completeness  of  Paul's  view  here,  which  embraces 
both  elements,  and  even  draws  the  undying  brightness  of 
this  forward-looking  confidence  from  the  very  darkness  ol 
his  sense  of  present  imperfection  1 


288  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION,  [serm. 

So  should  it  be  with  us,  "as  many  as  be  perfect" 
Before  us  stretch  indefinite  possibilities  of  approximating 
to  the  unattainable  fulness  of  the  Divine  life.  We  may 
grow  in  knowledge  and  in  holiness  through  endless  ages 
and  grades  of  advance.  In  a  most  blessed  sense  we  may 
have  that  for  our  highest  joy  which  in  another  meaning 
is  a  punishment  of  unfaithfulness  and  indocility,  that  we 
shall  be  "  ever  learning,  and  never  coming  to  the  full 
knowledge  of  the  truth."  No  limit  can  be  put  to  what 
we  may  receive  of  God,  nor  to  the  closeness,  the  fulness 
of  our  communion  with  Him,  nor  to  the  beauty  of  holi- 
ness which  may  pass  from  Him  into  our  poor  characters, 
and  irradiate  our  homely  laces.  Then,  brethren,  let  ua 
cherish  a  noble  discontent  with  all  that  we  at  present  are. 
Let  our  spirits  stretch  out  all  their  powers  to  the  better 
things  beyond,  as  the  plants  grown  in  darkness  will  send 
out  pale  shoots  that  feel  blindly  towards  the  light,  or  the 
seed  sown  on  the  top  of  a  rock  will  grope  down  the  bare 
stone  for  the  earth  by  which  it  must  be  fed  Let  the 
sense  of  our  own  weakness  ever  lead  to  a  buoyant  con- 
fidence in  what  we,  even  we,  may  become  if  we  will  only 
take  the  grace  we  have.  To  this  touchstone  let  us  bring 
all  claims  to  higher  holiness — they  who  are  perfect  arc 
most  conscious  of  imperfection,  and  most  eager  in  theii 
efforts  after  a  further  progress  in  the  knowledge,  love,  and 
likeness  of  God  in  Christ 

IIL  We  have  here  also  distinctly  brought  out  the  «^ 
existence  with  these  characteristics  of  their  opposites, 

**  If  in  anything  ye  are  otherwise  minded,"  says  PauL 


xvn.]  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION.  389 

I  have  already  suggested  that  this  expression  evidently 
refers  not  to  difference  of  opinion  among  themselves,  but 
to  a  divergence  of  character  from  the  pattern  of  feeling 
and  hfe  which  he  has  been  proposing  to  them.  If  in  any 
respects  ye  are  unconscious  of  your  imperfections,  if  there 
be  any  "  witch's  mark  "  of  insensibiUty  in  some  spot  of 
your  conscience  to  some  plain  transgressions  ot  law,  if  in 
any  of  you  there  be  some  complacent  illusion  of  your  own 
stainlessness,  if  to  any  of  you  the  bright  vision  before  you 
seem  faint  and  unsubstantial,  God  will  show  you  what  you 
do  not  see.  Plainly  then  he  considers  that  there  will  be 
found  among  these  perfect  men  states  of  feeling  and 
estimates  of  themselves  opposed  to  those  which  he  has 
been  exhorting  them  to  cherish.  Plainly  he  supposes 
that  a  good  man  may  pass  for  a  time  under  the  dominion 
of  impulses  and  theories  which  are  of  another  kind  from 
those  that  rule  his  life. 

He  does  not  expect  the  complete  and  uninterrupted 
dominion  of  these  higher  powers.  He  recognises  the 
plain  facts  that  the  true  self,  the  central  Ufe  of  the  soul, 
the  higher  nature,  "  the  new  man,"  abides  in  a  self  which 
is  but  gradually  renewed,  and  that  there  is  a  long  distance 
so  to  speak,  from  the  centre  to  the  circumference.  That 
higher  hfe  is  planted,  but  its  germination  is  a  work  of 
time.  The  leaven  does  not  leaven  the  whole  mass  in  a 
moment,  but  creeps  on  from  particle  to  particle.  **  Make 
the  tree  good  "  and  in  due  time  its  fruit  will  be  good. 
But  the  conditions  of  our  human  hfe  are  conflict,  and 
these  peaceful  images  of  growth  and  unimpeded  natural 
development,  "  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  after  that  the 


290  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION,  [serm. 

full  com  in  the  car,"  are  not  meant  to  tell  all  the  truth. 
Interruptions  from  external  circumstances,  struggles  of 
desh  with  spirit,  and  of  imagination  and  heart  and  will 
against  the  better  life  implanted  in  the  spirit,  are  the  lot 
of  all,  even  the  most  advanced  here,  and  however  a  man 
may  be  perfect,  there  will  always  be  the  possibility  that  in 
something  he  may  be  "  otherwise  minded." 

Such  an  admission  docs  not  make  such  interruptions  less 
blameworthy  when  they  occur.  The  doctrine  of  averages 
does  not  do  away  with  the  voluntary  character  of  each 
single  act  The  same  number  of  letters  are  yearly  posted 
without  addresses.  Does  anybody  dream  of  not  scold- 
ing the  errand  boy  who  posted  them,  or  the  servant  who 
did  not  address,  because  he  knows  that  ?  We  are  quite 
sure  that  we  could  have  resisted  each  time  that  we  felL 
That  piece  of  sharp  practice  in  business,  or  that  burst  of 
bad  temper  in  the  household  which  we  were  last  guilty 
of — could  we  have  helped  it  or  not  ?  Conscience  must 
answer  that  question,  which  does  not  depend  at  all  on 
the  law  of  averages.  Guilt  is  not  taken  away  by  assert- 
ing that  sin  cleaves  to  men,  "  perfect  men." 

But  the  feelings  with  which  we  should  regard  sin  and 
contradictions  of  men's  truest  selves  in  omrselves  and 
others,  should  be  so  far  altered  by  such  thoughts,  that  we 
should  be  very  slow  to  pronounce  that  a  man  cannot  be 
a  Qiristian  because  he  has  done  so  and  so.  Are  there 
any  sins  which  are  clearly  incompatible  with  a  Christian 
character?  All  sins  are  inconsistent  with  it,  but  that  is 
a  very  diflferent  matter.  The  uniform  direction  of  « 
man's  life  being  godless,  sel^sh,  devoted  to  the  objecti 


XVII.]  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION,  391 

and  pursuits  of  time  and  sense,  is  incompatible  with  his 
being  a  Christian — but,  thank  God,  no  single  act,  how 
ever  dark,  is  so,  if  it  be  in  contradiction  to  the  main 
tendency  impressed  upon  the  character  and  conduct 
It  is  not  for  us  to  say  that  any  single  deed  shows  a  man 
cannot  be  Christ's  nor  to  fling  ourselves  down  in  despair 
saying,  "  If  I  were  a  Christian,  I  could  not  have  done 
that"  Let  us  remember  that  "all  unrighteousness  is 
sin,"  and  the  least  sin  is  in  flagrant  opposition  to  our 
Christian  profession  ;  but  let  us  also  remember,  and  that 
not  to  blunt  our  consciences  or  weaken  our  efforts,  that 
Paul  thought  it  possible  for  perfect  men  to  be  "other- 
wise minded  **  from  their  deepest  selves  and  their  highest 
pattern. 

IV.  The  crowning  hope  that  lies  in  these  words  is  the 
certainty  of  a  gradual  but  compute  attainment  of  all  the 
Christian's  aspirations  after  God  and  goodness. 

The  ground  of  that  confidence  lies  in  no  natural  ten- 
dencies in  us,  m  no  effort  of  ours,  but  solely  in  that  great 
name  which  is  the  anchor  of  all  our  confidence,  the  name 
of  God.  Why  is  Paul  certain  that  **  God  will  reveal  even 
this  unto  you  "  ?  Because  He  is  God.  The  apostle  has 
learned  the  infinite  depth  of  meaning  that  lies  in  that 
name.  He  has  learned  that  God  is  not  in  the  way  of 
leaving  off"  His  work  before  He  has  done  His  work,  and 
that  none  can  say  of  Him,  that  "  He  began  to  build,  and 
was  not  able  to  finish."  The  assurances  of  an  unchange- 
able purpose  in  redemption,  and  of  inexhaustible  re- 
sources to  effect  it ;  of  a  love  that  can  never  fade,  and 


293  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION,  [SERM. 

of  a  grace  that  can  never  be  exhausted — are  all  treasured 
for  us  in  that  mighty  name.  And  such  confidence  is 
confirmed  by  the  manifest  tendency  of  the  principles  and 
motives  brought  to  bear  on  us  in  Christianity  to  lead  on 
to  a  condition  of  absolute  perfection,  as  well  as  by  the 
experience  which  we  may  have,  if  we  will,  of  the  sancti- 
fying and  renewing  power  of  His  Spirit  in  our  Spirit 

By  the  discipline  of  daily  life,  by  the  ministry  of  sorrow 
and  joy,  by  mercifiil  chastisements  dogging  our  steps 
when  we  stray,  by  duties  and  cares,  by  the  teaching  of 
ffis  word  coming  even  closer  to  our  hearts  and  quicken- 
ing our  consciences  to  discern  evil  where  we  had  seen 
none,  as  well  as  kindling  in  us  desires  afler  higher  and 
rarer  goodness,  by  the  reward  of  enlarged  perceptions  of 
duty  and  greater  love  towards  it,  with  which  Ete  recom- 
penses lowly  obedience  to  the  duty  as  yet  seen,  by  the 
secret  influences  of  His  Spirit  of  Power  and  of  Love  and 
of  a  sound  Mind  breathed  into  our  waiting  spirits,  by  the 
touch  of  His  own  sustaining  hand  and  glance  of  His  own 
guiding  eye.  He  will  reveal  to  the  lowly  soul  all  that  is 
yet  wanting  in  its  knowledge,  and  communicate  all  that 
is  lacking  in  character. 

So  for  us,  the  true  temper  is  confidence  in  His  power 
and  will,  an  earnest  waiting  on  Him,  a  brave  forward 
yearning  hope  blended  with  a  lowly  consciousness  of  im- 
perfection, which  is  a  spur  not  a  dog,  and  vigorous 
increasing  efforts  to  bring  into  life  and  character  the  fulness 
and  beauty  of  God.  Presumption  should  be  as  far  from 
us  as  despair — the  one  because  we  have  not  already 
attained,  the  other  because  *'  God  will  reveal  even  thif 


XVII.]  THE  SOWS  PERFECTION,  993 

unto  us."  Only  let  us  keep  in  mind  the  caution  which 
the  apostle,  knowing  the  possible  abuses  which  might 
gather  round  His  teaching,  has  here  attached  to  it, "  Never 
theless " — though  aU  which  I  have  been  saying  is  true, 
it  is  only  true  on  this  understanding — "whereto  we  have 
already  attained,  by  the  same  let  us  walk."  God  will  perfect 
that  which  concemeth  you  if — and  only  if — you  go  on  as 
you  have  begun,  if  you  make  your  creed  a  life,  if  you  show 
what  you  are.  If  so,  then  all  the  rest  is  a  question  of 
time.  A  has  been  said,  and  Z  will  come  in  its  proper 
place.  Begin  with  humble  trust  in  Christ,  and  a  process 
is  commenced  which  has  no  natural  end  short  of  that 
great  hope  with  which  this  chapter  closes,  that  the  change 
which  begins  in  tlie  deepest  recesses  of  our  being,  and 
struggles  slowly  and  with  many  interruptions,  into  partial 
visibility  in  our  character,  shall  one  day  triumphantly  ir- 
radiate our  whole  nature  out  to  the  very  finger  tips,  and 
"  even  the  body  of  our  humiliation  shall  be  fashioned  like 
unto  the  body  of  Christ's  glory,  according  to  the  working 
whereby  He  is  able   even  to  subdue  all  things  to  Hin»- 


SERMON   XVIII. 

THE  FIRST  PREACHING  AT  ANTIOCH. 

Acts  zL  20,  ai. 

Amd'  some  of  them  were  men  of  Cjrprus  and  Cyrene,  which,  when 
they  were  come  to  Antioch,  spake  unto  the  Grecians,  preaching 
the  Lord  Jesus.  And  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  with  them  ;  uad 
a  great  number  believed,  and  turned  onto  the  Lord. 

T^HUS  simply  does  the  historian  tell  one  of  the  greatest 
"*■  events  in  the  history  of  the  Church.  How  great  it 
was  will  appear  if  we  observe  that  the  weight  of  authority 
among  critics  and  commentators  sees  here  an  extension 
of  the  message  of  salvation  to  Greeks,  that  is,  to  pure 
heathens,  and  not  a  mere  preaching  to  Hellenists,  that 
is,  to  Greek-speaking  Jews  bom  outside  Palestine. 

If  that  be  correct,  this  was  a  great  stride  forward  in 
the  development  of  the  Church.  It  needed  a  vision  to 
overcome  the  scruples  of  Peter,  and  impel  him  to  the 
bold  innovation  of  preaching  to  Cornelius  and  his  house- 
hold, and,  as  we  know,  his  doing  so  gave  grave  offence 
to  some  of  his  brethren  in  Jerusalem.  But  in  the  case 
before  us^  some  Cypriote  and  African  Jews — men  of  no 
note  in  the  Church,  whose  very  names  have  perished, 
with  no  official  among  them,  with  no  vision  nor  command 


SERM.  xniii,]     THE  FIRST  PREACHING.  295 


to  impel  them,  with  no  precedent  to  encourage  them, 
with  nothing  but  the  truth  in  their  minds  and  tiie  impulses 
of  Christ's  love  in  their  Learts — solve  the  problem  of  the 
extension  of  Christ's  message  to  the  heathen,  and,  quite 
unconscious  of  the  greatness  of  their  act,  do  the  thing 
about  the  propriety  of  which  there  had  been  such  serious 
question  in  Jerusalem. 

This  boldness  becomes  even  more  remarkable  if  we 
notice  that  the  incident  of  our  text  may  have  taken  place 
before  Peter's  visit  to  Cornelius.  The  verse  before  our 
text,  "  They  which  were  scattered  abroad  upon  the  perse- 
cution that  arose  about  Stephen  travelled, , . .  preaching  the 
word  to  none  but  unto  the  Jews  only,"  is  almost  a  verbatim 
repetition  of  words  in  an  earlier  chapter,  and  evidently 
suggests  that  the  writer  is  returning  to  that  point  of  time, 
in  order  to  take  up  another  thread  of  his  narrative  co- 
temporaneous  with  those  already  pursued.  If  so,  three 
distinct  Unas  of  expansion  appear  to  have  started  from 
the  dispersion  of  the  Jerusalem  church  in  the  persecution 
— namely  Philip's  mission  to  Samaria,  Peter's  to  Cornelius, 
and  this  work  in  Antioch.  Whether  prior  in  time  or  no,  the 
preaching  in  the  latter  city  was  plainly  quite  independent 
of  the  other  two.  It  is  further  noteworthy  that  this,  the 
cfifort  of  a  handful  of  unnamed  men,  was  the  true 
"  leader " — the  shoot  that  grew.  Philip's  work,  and 
Peter's  so  far  as  we  know,  were  side  branches,  which 
came  to  little ;  this  led  on  to  a  church  at  Antioch,  and 
so  to  Paul's  missionary  work,  and  all  that  came  of 
that 

The  incident  naturally  suggests  some  thoughts  bearing 


396  THE  FIRST  PREACHING  [skrm. 

on  the  general  subject  of  Christian  work,  which  we  now 
briefly  present 

I.  Notice  the  spontaneous  impulse  which  these  men 
obeyed. 

Persecution  drove  the  members  of  the  Church  apart, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  wherever  they  went  they  took 
their  faith  with  them,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  spoke 
about  it  The  coals  were  scattered  from  the  hearth  in 
Jerusalem  by  the  armed  heel  of  violence.  That  did  not 
put  the  fire  out,  but  only  spread  it,  for  wherever  they 
were  flung  they  kindled  a  blaze.  These  men  had  no 
special  injunction  "  to  preach  the  Lord  Jesus."  They  do 
not  seem  to  have  adopted  this  line  of  action  deliberately, 
or  of  set  purpose.  They  believed,  and  therefore  spoke. 
A  spontaneous  impulse,  and  nothing  more,  leads  them 
on.  They  find  themselves  rejoicing  in  a  great  Saviour- 
Friend.  They  see  all  aroimd  them  men  who  need  Him, 
and  that  is  enough.  They  obey  the  promptings  of  the 
voice  within,  and  lay  the  foundations  of  the  first  Gentile 
church. 

Such  a  spontaneous  impulse  is  ever  the  natural  result 
of  our  own  personal  possession  of  Christ  In  regard  to 
worldly  good  the  instinct,  except  when  overcome  by 
higher  motives,  is  to  keep  the  treasure  to  onesel£  But 
even  in  the  natural  sphere,  there  are  possessions  which  to 
have  is  to  long  to  impart,  such  as  truth  and  knowledge. 
And  in  the  spiritual  sphere,  it  is  emphatically  the  case 
tiiat  real  possession  is  always  accompanied  by  a  longing 
to  impart    Hie  old  prophet  spoke  a  universal  truth  when 


XVIII.]  AT  ANTIOCH,  997 


he  said :  **  Thy  word  was  as  a  fire  shut  up  in  my  bones, 
and  I  was  weary  with  forbearing,  and  I  could  not  stay." 
If  we  have  found  Christ  for  ourselves,  we  shall  un- 
doubtedly wish  to  speak  forth  our  knowledge  of  his 
love.  Convictions  which  are  deep  demand  expression. 
Emotion  which  is  strong  needs  utterance.  If  our  hearts 
have  any  fervour  of  love  to  Christ  in  them,  it  will  be  as 
natural  to  tell  it  forth,  as  tears  are  to  sorrow  or  smiles  to 
happiness.  True,  there  is  a  reticence  in  profound  feeling, 
and  sometimes  the  deepest  love  can  only  **  love  and  be 
silent,"  and  there  is  a  just  suspicion  of  loud  or  vehement 
protestations  of  Christian  emotion,  as  of  any  emotion. 
But  for  all  that,  it  remains  true  that  a  heart  warmed 
with  the  love  of  Christ  needs  to  express  its  love,  and  will 
give  it  forth,  as  certainly  as  light  must  radiate  from  its 
centre,  or  heat  from  a  fire. 

Then,  true  kindliness  of  heart  creates  the  same  impulse. 
We  cannot  truly  possess  the  treasure  for  ourselves  with- 
out pity  for  those  who  have  it  not  Surely  there  is  no 
stranger  contradiction  than  that  Christian  men  and 
women  can  be  content  to  keep  Christ  as  if  He  were  their 
special  property,  and  have  their  spirits  imtouched  into 
any  likeness  of  his  Divine  pity  for  the  multitudes  who 
were  as  sheep  having  no  shepherd.  What  kind  of 
Christians  must  they  be  who  think  of  Christ  as  "a 
Saviour  for  me,"  and  take  no  care  to  set  Him  forth  as  "  a 
Saviour  for  you  ?  "  What  should  we  think  of  men  in  a 
shipwreck  who  were  content  to  get  into  the  life-boat,  and 
let  everybody  else  drown?  What  should  we  think  of 
people  in  a  (amine  feasting  sumptuously  on  their  private 


298  THE  FIRST  PREACHING  [serm. 

stores,  whilst  women  were  boiling  their  children  for  a 
meal  and  men  fighting  with  dogs  for  garbage  on  the 
dunghills  ?  "  He  that  withholdeth  bread,  the  people 
shall  curse  him."  What  of  him  who  withholds  the  Bread 
of  Life,  and  all  the  while  claims  to  be  a  follower  of  the 
Christ,  who  gave  his  flesh  for  the  good  of  the  world  ? 

Further,  loyalty  to  Christ  creates  the  same  impulse.  If 
we  are  true  to  our  Lord,  we  shall  feel  that  we  cannot  but 
speak  up  and  out  for  Him,  and  that  all  the  more  where 
His  name  is  unloved  and  unhonoured.  He  has  left  His 
good  fame  very  much  in  our  hands,  and  the  very  same 
impulse  whiclr-  l*arries  words  to  our  Ups  when  we  hear  the 
name  of  an  absent  friend  calumniated  should  make  us 
speak  for  Him.  He  is  a  doubtfully  loyal  subject  who,  if 
be  lives  among  rebels,  is  afraid  to  show  his  colours.  He 
is  already  a  coward,  and  is  on  the  way  to  be  a  traitor. 
Our  Master  has  made  us  his  witnesses.  He  has  placed 
in  our  hands,  as  a  sacred  deposit,  the  honour  of  his  name. 
He  has  entrusted  to  us,  as  His  selectest  sign  of  confidence, 
the  carrying  out  of  the  purposes  for  which  on  earth  His 
blood  was  shed,  on  which  in  heaven  His  heart  is  set. 
How  can  we  be  loyal  to  Him  if  we  are  not  forced  by  a 
mighty  constraint  to  respond  to  His  great  tokens  of  trust 
in  us,  and  if  we  know  nothing  of  that  spirit  which  said : 
"  Necessity  is  laid  upon  me ;  yea,  woe  is  unto  me,  if  I 
preach  not  the  gospel ! "  I  do  not  say  that  a  man  cannot 
be  a  Christian  unless  he  knows  and  obeys  this  impulse. 
But,  at  least,  we  may  safely  say  that  he  is  a  very  weak 
and  impel  feet  Christian  who  does  not 


xviii.]  AT  ANTJOCH.  S99 

IL  This  incident  suggests  the  universal  obligatum  on 
ftU  Christians  to  make  known  Christ 

These  men  were  not  officials.  In  these  early  da3rs  the 
Church  had  a  very  loose  organisation.  But  the  fugitives 
in  our  narrative  seem  to  have  had  among  them  none  even 
of  the  humble  office-bearers  of  primitive  times.  Neither 
had  they  any  command  or  commission  from  Jerusalem. 
No  one  there  had  given  them  authority,  or,  as  would 
appear,  knew  an)rthing  of  their  proceedings.  Could  there 
be  a  more  striking  illustration  of  the  great  truth  that 
whatever  varieties  of  function  may  be  committed  to 
various  officers  in  the  Church,  the  work  of  telling  Christ's 
love  to  men  belongs  to  every  one  who  has  found  it  for 
himself  or  herself?     "  This  honour  have  all  the  saints." 

Whatever  may  be  our  differences  of  opinion  as  to  church 
order  and  offices,  they  need  not  interfere  with  our  firm 
grasp  of  this  truth.  "  Preaching  Christ,"  in  the  sense  in 
which  that  expression  is  used  in  the  New  Testament, 
implies  no  one  special  method  of  proclaiming  the  glad 
tidings.  A  word  written  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  a  sentence 
dropped  in  casual  conversation,  a  lesson  to  a  child  on  a 
mother's  lap,  or  any  other  way  by  which,  to  any  listeners, 
the  great  story  of  the  cross  is  told,  js  as  truly — often  more 
truly — preaching  Christ  as  the  set  discourse  which  has 
usurped  the  name. 

We  profess  to  believe  in  the  priesthood  of  all  believers, 
we  are  ready  enough  to  assert  it  in  opposition  to  sacer- 
dotal assumptions.  Are  we  as  ready  to  recognise  it  as 
laying  a  very  real  responsibihty  upon  us,  and  involving 


300  THE  FIRST  PREACHING  [SERM, 

a  very  practical  inference  as  to  our  own  conduct  ?  We 
all  have  the  power,  therefore  we  all  have  the  duty.  For 
what  purpose  did  God  give  us  the  blessing  of  knowing 
Christ  ourselves?  Not  for  our  own  well-being  alone, 
but  that  through  us  the  blessing  might  be  still  farther 
diflFused 

"Heaven  doth  with  as  as  men  with  tordies  do, 

Not  light  them  for  themselves." 

**  God  hath  shined  into  our  hearts  that  we  might  give 
to  others  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ"  Every  Christian  is  solemnly 
bound  to  fulfil  this  Divine  intention,  and  to  take  heed 
to  the  imperative  command,  "  Freely  ye  have  received, 
freely  give." 

IIL  Observe,  further,  the  simple  message  which  they 
proclaimed. 

"  Preaching  the  Lord  Jesus,*'  says  the  text — or,  more 
accurately  perhaps — preaching  Jesus  as  Lord.  The 
substance  then  of  their  message  was  just  this — procla- 
mation of  the  person  and  dignity  of  their  Master,  the  story 
of  the  human  Ufe  of  the  Man,  the  story  of  the  Divine 
sacrifice  and  self-bestowment  by  which  He  had  bought 
the  right  of  supreme  rule  over  every  heart;  and  the 
urging  of  His  claims  on  all  who  heard  of  His  love.  And 
this,  their  message,  was  but  the  proclamation  of  their 
own  personal  experience.  They  had  found  Jesus  for 
themselves  to  be  lover  and  Lord,  friend  and  Saviour  of 
their  souls,  and  the  joy  they  had  received  they  sought  to 


xviii.]  AT  ANTIOCH,  301 

share  with  these  Greeks,  worshippers  of  gods  and  lords 
many. 

Surely  anybody  can  deliver  that  message  who  has  had 
that  experience.  All  have  not  the  gifts  which  would  fit 
for  public  speech,  but  all  who  have  tasted  that  the  Lord 
is  gracious  can  tell  somehow  how  gracious  He  is.  The 
first  Christian  sermon  was  very  short,  and  it  was  very 
efficacious,  for  it  "  brought  to  Jesus  "  the  whole  congre- 
gation. Here  it  is :  "  He  first  findeth  his  brother  Simon, 
and  saith  unto  him,  We  have  found  the  Messias."  Surely 
we  can  all  say  that,  if  we  have  found  Him.  Surely  we 
shall  all  long  to  say  it,  if  we  are  glad  that  we  have  found 
Him,  and  if  we  love  our  brother. 

Notice,  too,  how  simple  the  form  as  well  as  the  sub- 
stance of  the  message.  "  They  spake.""  It  was  no  set 
address,  no  formal  utterance,  but  familiar,  natural  talk 
to  ones  and  twos,  as  opportunity  offered.  The  form  was 
so  simple  that  we  may  say  there  was  none.  What  we 
want  is  that  Christian  people  should  speak  anyhow. 
What  does  the  shape  of  the  cup  matter  ?  What  does  it 
matter  whether  it  be  gold  or  clay  ?  The  main  thing  is 
that  it  shall  bear  the  water  of  life  to  some  thirsty  lip.  All 
Christians  have  to  preach,  as  the  word  is  here,  that  is,  to 
tell  the  good  news.  Their  task  is  to  cany  a  message — no 
refinement  of  words  is  needed  for  that — arguments  are 
not  needed.  They  have  to  tell  it  simply  and  faithfiiUy, 
as  one  who  only  cares  to  repeat  what  he  has  had  given  to 
hmi.  They  have  to  tell  it  confidently,  as  having  proved 
it  true.  They  have  to  tell  it  beseechingly^  as  loving  the 
«ouls  to  whom  they  bring  it     Surely  we  can  all  do  that 


3oa  THE  FIRST  PREACHING  [serm. 

if  we  ourselves  are  living  on  Christ  and  have  drunk  into 
His  spirin  Let  His  mighty  salvation,  experienced  by 
yourselves,  be  the  substance  of  your  message,  and  let  the 
form  of  it  be  guided  by  the  old  words,  "  It  shall  be,  when 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  come  upon  thee,  that  thou  shalt 
io  as  occasion  shall  serve  thee." 

IV.  Notice,  lastly,  the  mighty  Helper  who  prospereJ 
their  work. 

**  The  hand  of  the  Lord  was  with  thenL"  The  very 
keynote  of  this  book  of  the  Acts  is  the  work  of  the  as- 
cended Christ  in  and  for  his  Church.  At  every  turning 
point  in  the  history,  and  throughout  the  whole  narratives, 
forms  of  speech  like  this  occur  bearing  witness  to  the 
profound  conviction  of  the  writer  that  Christ's  active 
energy  was  with  His  servants,  and  Christ's  hand  the  origin 
of  all  their  security  and  of  all  their  success. 

So  this  is  a  statement  of  a  permanent  and  universal  fact 
We  do  not  labour  alone ;  however  feeble  our  hands,  that 
mighty  Hand  is  laid  on  them  to  direct  their  movements 
and  to  lend  strength  to  their  weakness.  It  is  not  our 
speech  which  will  secure  results,  but  his  presence  with  our 
words  which  shall  bring  it  about  that  even  through  them 
a  great  number  shall  believe  and  turn  to  the  Lord 
There  is  our  encouragement  when  we  are  despondent 
There  is  our  rebuke  when  we  are  self-confident  There 
is  our  stimulus  when  we  are  indolent  There  is  our  quiet- 
ness when  we  are  impatient  If  ever  we  are  tempted  to 
think  our  task  heavy,  let  us  not  forget  that  He  who  set 
it  h^w  UB  to  do  it,  and  from  His  throne  shares  in  all  our 


xvilL]  AT  ANTIOCH.  303 

toils,  the  Lord  still,  as  of  old,  working  with  us.  If  ever 
we  feel  that  our  strength  is  nothing,  and  that  we  stand 
solitary  against  many  foes,  let  us  fall  back  upon  the 
peacegiving  thought  that  one  man  against  the  world, 
with  Christ  to  help  him,  is  always  in  the  majority,  and  let 
us  leave  issues  of  our  work  in  his  hands,  whose  hand  will 
guard  the  seed  sown  in  weakness,  whose  smile  will  bless 
the  springing  thereof 

How  little  any  of  us  know  what  shall  become  of  our 
poor  work,  under  His  fostering  care  I  How  little  these 
men  knew  that  they  were  laying  the  foundations  of  the 
great  change  which  was  to  transform  the  Christian 
community  from  a  Jewish  sect  into  a  world-embracing 
Church  1  So  is  it  ever.  We  know  not  what  we  do  when 
simply  and  humbly  we  speak  His  name.  The  far- 
reaching  issues  escape  our  eyes.  Then  sow  the  seed, 
and  He  will  "  give  it  a  body  as  it  pleaseth  HinL"  On 
earth  we  may  never  know  the  results  of  our  labours. 
They  will  be  among  the  surprises  of  heaven,  where  many 
a  soHtary  worker  shall  exclaim  with  wonder  as  he  looks 
on  the  hitherto  unknown  children  whom  God  hath  given 
him,  "  Behold,  I  was  left  alone ;  these,  where  had  they 
been?"  Then,  though  our  names  may  have  perished 
from  earthly  memories,  like  those  of  the  simple  fugitives 
of  Cyprus  and  C)rrene,  who  "  were  the  first  that  ever 
burst "  into  the  night  of  heathendom  with  the  torch  of 
the  gospel  in  their  hands,  they  will  be  written  in  the 
Lamb's  book  of  life,  and  He  will  confess  them  in  the 
presence  of  His  Father  in  heaven. 


SERMON   XIX. 

THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLAVES* 

2  Peter  ii.  i. 
Denying  the  Lord  that  bought  them. 

nPHERE  were  three  great  stains  on  the  civilisation  of 
■*•  the  world  into  which  Christianity  came  :  war,  the 
position  of  woman,  and  slavery.  With  the  two  first  of 
these  we  have  nothing  to  do  at  present,  but  the  relation 
of  the  New  Testament  to  the  last  of  these  great  evils 
naturally  connects  itself  with  the  words  before  us.  That 
relation  is  at  first  sight  very  singular.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  atrocious  system  of  slavery  is  utterly  irre- 
concileable  with  the  principles  and  spirit  of  the  Gospel. 
It  dies  in  the  light  of  Christianity,  like  some  foul  fungus 
that  can  only  grow  in  the  dark.  And  yet  there  is  not  a 
word  of  condemnation  of  it  in  the  book.  The  writers  of 
the  New  Testament  found  that  evil  institution  which 
makes  the  slaves  chattels  and  their  masters  fiends  in  fiiU 
force,  and  they  said  nothing  against  it  Paul  recognises 
it  in  several  of  his  letters,  regulates  it,  gives  counsels 
to  Christians  standing  to  each  other  in  the  extraordinary 
relation  of  owner  and  slave ;  sends  back  the  runaway 


XIX.]         THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLAVES.         305 

Onesimus  to  his  master,  and  shows  no  consciousness  of 
the  revolutionary  force  of  his  own  words,  "  In  Christ 
Jesus  there  is  neither  bond  nor  free."  Whether  he  fore- 
saw the  effect  of  the  gospel  in  breaking  every  yoke  or  no, 
the  fact  remains  that  Christianity  at  its  beginning  ran  no 
tilt  against  even  the  most  execrable  social  iniquities,  but 
was  guided  by  the  wisdom  which  said,  "  Make  the  tree 
good,  and  its  fruit  good."  The  only  way  to  mend  in- 
stitutions is  by  mending  individuals.  Elevate  the  tone 
of  society  by  lifting  the  moral  nature  of  the  units,  and 
evil  things  will  drop  away  and  become  impossible.  Other 
trays  are  revolutionary  and  imperfect 

In  like  manner,  this  same  wicked  thing,  slavery,  is  used 
as  an  illustration  of  the  highest,  sacredest,  noblest  rela- 
tionship possible  to  men — their  submission  to  Jesus 
Christ  With  all  its  vileness,  it  is  still  not  too  vile  to  be 
Ufted  from  the  mud,  and  to  stand  as  a  picture  of  the  purest 
ind  loftiest  tie  that  can  bind  the  soul  The  aposdes 
glory  in  calling  themselves  "  slaves  of  Jesus  Christ"  That 
title  of  honour  heads  each  episde.  And  here  in  this 
text  we  have  the  same  figure  expressed  with  Peter's 
own  energy,  and  carried  out  in  detail  The  word  in 
our  text  for  "  Lord,"  is  an  unusual  one,  selected  to  put 
the  idea  in  the  roughest,  most  absolute  form.  It  is  the 
root  of  our  word  "despot,"  and  conveys,  at  any  rate, 
the  notion  of  unlimited,  irresponsible  authority.  We 
might  read  "owner"  with  some  approach  to  the  force  of 
the  word. 

Not  is  this  all  One  of  the  worst  and  ugliest  features 
of  slavery  ii  that  of  the  market,  where  men  and  women 

S 


3o6  THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLAVES,      [serm. 

and  children  are  sold  like  cattle.  And  that  has  its 
parallel  too,  for  this  Owner  has  bought  men  for  His. 

Nor  is  this  all ;  for,  as  there  are  fugitive  slaves,  who 
"break  away  every  man  from  his  master,"  and  when 
questioned  will  not  acknowledge  that  they  are  his,  so 
men  flee  from  this  Lord  and  Owner,  and  by  words  and 
deeds  assert  that  they  owe  Him  no  obedience,  and  were 
never  in  bondage  to  Him. 

So,  then,  there  are  these  three  points  brought  out  in 
the  words  before  us :  Christ's  absolute  ownership  of  men  ; 
iht purchase  on  which  it  depends;  and  the  fugitives  who 
deny  his  authority. 

I.  The  strong  expression  of  the  text  asserts  Christ s 
absolute  ownership.  If  a  word  had  been  sought  to  convey 
the  hardest  possible  representation  of  irresponsible,  un- 
limited authority,  bound  by  no  law  but  its  own  will, 
the  word  in  our  text  would  have  been  chosen.  Such 
authority  can  never  be  really  exercised  by  men  over  men. 
For  thought  and  will  are  ever  free.  To  claim  it  would 
be  blasphemy,  to  allow  it  would  be  degradation.  But  such 
an  authority,  in  comparison  with  which  the  most  absolute 
that  man  can  exercise  over  man  is  shght  and  superficial, 
this  peasant  of  Nazareth  claims,  and  not  in  vain.  Proud 
hearts  have  bowed  to  his  authority,  and  through  the 
centuries  the  whole  being  of  thousands  upon  thousands 
has  gloried  in  submission — ^utter  and  aU-embracing — to 
Him.  '*  What  manner  of  man  is  this,"  it  was  said  of  old, 
"  that  even  the  winds  and  the  sea  obey  Him  ?  "  But  the 
question  opens  a  deeper  depth  of  wonder,  and  a  higher 


XIX.]        THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLAVES,  yvf 

stretch  of  power  i  **  What  manner  of  man  is  this  that 
even  the  hearts  and  wills  of  men  obey  Him?**  His 
autocratic  lips  spake,  and  it  was  done,  when  He  was 
here  on  earth — rebuking  disease,  and  it  fled;  the  wild 
storm,  and  there  was  a  great  calm ;  demons,  and  they 
came  out ;  death  itself,  and  its  dull  cold  ear  heard,  and 
Lazarus  came  forth.  To  material  things  and  forces  He 
spake  as  their  great  Imperator  and  Commander,  say- 
ing to  this  one  "Go,"  and  he  went,  and  showing  his 
Divinity,  as  even  the  pagan  centurion  had  learned,  by 
the  power  of  His  word,  the  bare  utterance  of  His  will. 

But  His  rule  in  the  region  of  man's  spirit  is  as  absolute 
and  authoritative,  and  there  too  "His  word  is  with  power.** 
The  correlative  ot  Christ's  ownership  is  our  entire  sub- 
mission of  will,  our  complete  acceptance  of  the  law  of 
his  lips,  our  practical  recognition  that  we  are  not  our 
own.  Loyola  demanded  from  his  black-robed  militia 
obedience  to  the  general  of  the  order  so  complete  that 
they  were  to  be  "  just  like  a  corpse,"  or  "  a  staff  in  a 
blind  man*8  hand."  Such  a  requirement  made  by  a  man 
is  of  course  the  crushing  of  the  will,  and  the  emasculation 
of  the  whole  nature.  But  such  a  demand  yielded  to  from 
Christ  is  the  vitalising  of  the  will  and  the  ennobling  of 
the  spirit  To  give  myself  up  to  Him  is  to  become  not 
**  like  a  corpse  " — but  to  be  as  alive  from  the  dead.  We 
then  first  find  our  lives  when  we  surrender  them  to  Him. 

The  owner  of  the  slave  could  set  him  to  any  work  he 
thought  fit.  So  our  Owner  gives  all  His  slaves  their 
several  tasks.  As  in  some  despotic  eastern  monarchies 
the  sultan's  mere  pleasure  makes  of  one  slave  his  vizier, 

X   2 


3o8  THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLAVES,     [serm. 

and  of  another  his  slipper-bearer,  our  King  chooses  one 
man  to  a  post  of  honour,  and  another  to  a  lowly  place ; 
and  none  have  a  right  to  question  the  allocation  of  work. 
What  corresponds  on  our  parts  to  that  sovereign  freedom 
of  appointment  ?  Cheerful  acceptance  of  our  task,  what- 
ever it  be.  What  does  it  matter  whether  we  are  set  to 
do  things  which  the  vulgar  world  calls  "  great,"  or  things 
which  the  blind  world  calls  "  small  ?  "  They  are  equally 
set  us  by  Him  to  whom  all  service  is  alike  that  is  done 
from  the  same  motive,  and  all  that  we  need  care  about 
is  to  give  glad  obedience  and  unmurmuring  honest  work. 
Nobody  knows  what  is  important  service,  and  what  not 
We  have  to  wait  till  another  day  far  ahead,  before  we 
can  tell  that.  All  work  that  contributes  to  a  great  end 
is  great ;  as  the  old  rhyme  has  it,  "  for  the  want  of  a  nail 
a  kingdom  was  lost."  So,  whatever  our  tasks,  let  us  say, 
"  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?  " 

The  slave's  hut,  and  Uttle  patch  of  garden  ground,  and 
few  bits  of  furniture,  whose  were  they — ^his  or  his  master's  ? 
If  he  was  not  his  own,  nothing  else  could  be  his  own. 
And  whose  are  our  possessions  ?  If  we  have  no  property 
in  ourselves,  still  less  can  we  have  property  in  our  pro- 
perty. These  things  were  His  before,  and  are  His  stilL 
The  first  claim  on  them  is  our  Master's,  not  ours.  We 
have  not  the  right  to  do  what  we  like  with  our  own.  So, 
if  we  rightly  understand  our  position,  we  shall  feel  that  we 
are  trustees,  not  possessors.  When,  like  prodigal  sons, 
we  "waste  our  substance,"  we  are  unfaithful  stewards, 
also,  "  wasting  our  Lord's  goods." 

Such  absolute  submission  of  will^  and  reco^tion  ol 


XIX.]         THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLAVES.  309 

Christ's  absolute  authority  over  us,  our  destiny,  work,  and 
possessions,  is  ennobling  and  blessed.  So  to  bow  before 
a  man  would  be  degrading  were  it  possible,  but  so  to  bow 
before  Him  is  our  highest  honour,  and  liberates  us  from 
all  other  submission.  The  king's  servant  is  every  other 
person's  master.  We  learn  from  historians  that  the 
origin  of  nobility  in  some  Teutonic  nations  is  supposed 
to  have  been  the  dignities  enjoyed  by  the  king's  household 
— of  which  you  find  traces  stilL  The  king's  master  of 
the  horse,  or  chamberlain,  or  cupbearer,  becomes  noble. 
Christ's  servants  are  lords,  free  because  they  serve  Him, 
noble  because  they  wear  His  livery  and  bear  the  mark  of 
Jesus  as  their  Lord. 

IL  The  text  brings  into  view  the  purchase  on  which 
that  ownership  is  founded. 

This  master  has  acquired  men  by  right  of  purchase. 
That  abomination  of  the  auction-block  may  suggest  the 
better  **  merchandise  of  the  souls  of  men,"  which  Christ 
has  made,  when  He  bought  us  with  His  own  blood  as  our 
ransom. 

That  purchase  is  represented  in  two  forms  of  expres- 
sion. Sometimes  we  read  that  He  has  bought  us  with  His 
"blood;"  sometimes  that  He  has  given  "Himself"  for 
ns.  Both  expressions  point  to  the  same  great  fact — His 
death  as  the  price  at  which  He  has  acquired  us  as  His 
own. 

There  are  far  deeper  thoughts  involved  in  this  state- 
ment than  can  be  dealt  with  here,  but  let  me  note  one  or 
two  plain  points.     First,  then,  that  is  a  vexy  beautiful  and 


3IO  THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLA  VES.      [serm 

profound  one,  that  Christ's  lordship  over  men  is  built 
upon  His  mighty  and  supreme  sacrifice  for  men.  Nothing 
short  of  His  utter  giving  up  of  himself  for  them  gives  Him 
the  right  of  absolute  authority  over  them ;  or,  as  Paul 
puts  it,  "  He  gave  himself  for  us,"  that  He  might  "  pur- 
chase for  himself  a  people."  He  does  not  found  His  king- 
dom on  His  Divinity,  but  on  His  suffering.  His  cross  is 
His  throne.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  recognition  of 
Christ's  death  as  our  ransom  is  absolutely  essential  to 
warrant  the  submission  to  Him  which  is  the  very  heart  of 
Christianity.  I  do  not  know  why  any  man  who  rejects 
that  view  of  the  death  of  Christ  should  call  to  Him, 
•*  Lord  !  Lord !  **  We  are  justified  in  saying  to  ffim,  "  O 
Lord,  truly  I  am  thy  servant,"  only  when  we  can  go  on  to 
say,  "  Thou  hast  loosed  my  bonds." 

Then,  consider  that  the  figure  suggests  that  we  are 
bought  from  a  previous  slavery  to  some  other  master. 
Free  men  are  not  sold  into  slavery,  but  slaves  pass  firom 
one  master  to  another,  and  sometimes  are  bought  into 
freedom  as  well  as  into  bondage.  Hebrew  slavery  was  a 
very  different  thing  from  Roman  or  American  slavery — 
but  such  as  it  was,  there  was  connected  with  it  that  pecu- 
liar institution  of  the  Gof/f  by  which,  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, if  an  Israelite  had  sold  himself  into  slavery, 
he  could  be  redeemed.  As  the  law  has  it,  "  One  of  his 
kinsmcp  may  redeem  him."  So  our  Kinsman  buys  us 
back  from  our  bondage  to  sin  and  guilt  and  condemna- 
tion, from  the  slavery  of  our  tyrant  lusts,  from  the  slavery 
to  men's  censures  and  opinions,  from  the  dominion  of 
evil  and  darkness,  and  making  us  His,  makes  us  free. 


XIX.]         THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLA  VES,  31 1 

He  that  committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin.     If  the  Son 
therefore  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed. 

IIL  Our  text  also  brings  to  view  the  Runaways.  We 
do  not  care  to  enquire  here  what  special  type  of  heretics 
the  apostle  had  in  view  in  these  solemn  words,  nor  to 
apply  them  to  modern  parallels  which  wc  may  fancy 
we  can  find.  It  is  more  profitable  to  notice  how  all  god- 
lessness  and  sin  may  be  described  as  denying  the  Lord. 
All  sin,  I  say,  for  it  would  appear  very  plain  that  the 
people  spoken  of  here  were  not  Christians  at  all,  and  yet 
the  apostle  believes  that  Christ  had  bought  them  by  Hii 
sacrifice,  and  so  had  a  right  over  them,  which  their  con- 
duct and  their  words  equally  denied. 

How  eloquent  that  word  "  denying  "  is  on  Peter's  lips. 
Did  the  old  man  travel  back  in  memory  to  that  cold  morn- 
ing, when  he  was  shivering  beside  the  coal-fire  in  the  high 
priest's  palace,  and  a  flippant  serving-maid  could  frighten 
him  into  lying?  Is  it  not  touching  to  notice  that  he 
describes  the  very  worst  aspect  of  the  sin  of  these  people 
in  the  words  that  recall  his  own  ?  It  is  as  if  he  were 
humbly  acknowledging  that  no  rebellion  could  be  worse 
than  his,  and  were  renewing  again  his  penitence  and 
bitter  weeping  after  all  those  years. 

All  sin  is  a  denial  of  Christ's  authority.  It  is  in  effect 
saj-ing,  "  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  reign  over  us." 
It  is  at  bottom  the  uprising  of  our  own  self-will  against 
his  rule,  and  the  proud  assertion  of  our  own  indepen- 
dence. It  is  as  foolish  as  it  is  ungratefiil,  as  ungrateful 
as  it  is  fooUsh. 


312     THE  MASTER  AND  HIS  SLA  VES.  [serm.  xix. 

That  denial  is  made  by  deeds  which  are  done  in  dc 
fiance  or  neglect  of  his  authority,  and  it  is  done  too  by 
words  and  opinions.  It  is  not  for  us  to  bring  such  a 
grave  charge  against  individuals,  but  at  least  we  may 
exhort  our  readers  to  beware  of  all  forms  of  teaching 
which  weaken  Christ's  absolute  authority  or  which  remove 
the  very  foundation  of  His  throne  by  weakening  the  power 
and  meaning  of  His  sacrifice. 

Finally,  let  us  beware  lest  the  fate  of  many  a  runaway 
slave  be  ours,  and  we  be  lost  in  trackless  bogs  and  perish 
miserably.  Casting  off  His  yoke  is  sure  to  end  in  ruin. 
Rather,  drawn  by  the  cords  of  love,  and  owning  the 
blessed  bonds  in  which  willing  souls  are  held  by  the  love 
of  Christ,  let  us  take  Him  for  our  Lord,  who  has  given 
himself  for  our  ransom,  and  answer  the  pleading  of  His 
cross  with  our  glad  surrender.  Then  shall  He  say,  **  I 
call  you  not  servants  but  firienda." 


SERMON   XX. 

A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS. 

a  Timothy  It.  6-«. 

I  am  BOW  readj  to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  mj  departw  It  at 
hand.  I  hare  fought  a  good  fight,  I  haye  finished  my  course,  I 
hare  kept  the  £uth :  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown 
of  righteousness. 

"pAUL'S  long  day*!  work  is  nearly  done.  He  is  a 
■'•  prisoner  in  Rome,  all  but  forsaien  by  his  friends, 
in  hourly  expectation  of  another  summons  before  Nero. 
To  appear  before  him  was,  he  says,  like  putting  his  head 
into  "  the  mouth  of  the  lion."  His  horizon  was  darkened 
by  sad  anticipations  of  decaying  faith  and  growing 
corruptions  in  the  church.  What  a  road  he  had  travelled 
since  that  day  when,  on  the  way  to  Damascus,  he  saw 
the  living  Christ,  and  heard  the  words  of  his  mouth  I 

It  had  been  but  a  failure  of  a  life,  if  judged  by  ordinary 
standards.  He  had  suffered  the  loss  of  aU  things,  had 
thrown  away  position  and  prospects,  had  exposed  him- 
self to  sorrows  and  toils,  had  been  all  his  dajrs  a  poor 
man  and  solitary,  had  been  hunted,  despised,  laughed  at 
by  Jew  and  Gentile,  worried  and  badgered  even  by  so- 
called  brethren,  loved  the  less,  the  more  he  loved.  And 
now  the  end  is  near.    A  prison  and  the  headsman'i 


314        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,    [serm. 

sword  are  the  world's  wages  to  its  best  teacher.  When 
Nero  is  on  the  throne,  the  only  possible  place  for  Paul  is 
the  dungeon  opening  on  to  the  scaffold.  Better  to  be 
the  martyr  than  the  Csesar  1 

These  familiar  words  of  our  text  bring  before  us  a  veiy 
sweet  and  wonderful  picture  of  the  prisoner,  so  near  his 
end.  How  beautifully  they  show  his  calm  waiting  for 
the  last  hour  and  the  bright  forms  which  lightened  for 
him  the  darkness  of  his  cell !  Many  since  have  gone  to 
their  rest  with  their  hearts  stayed  on  the  same  thoughts, 
though  their  lips  could  not  speak  them  to  our  listening 
ears.  Let  us  be  thankful  for  them,  and  pray  that  for 
ourselves,  when  we  come  to  that  hour,  the  same  quiet 
heroism  and  the  same  sober  hope  mounting  to  calm 
certainty  may  be  ours. 

These  words  refer  to  the  past,  the  present,  the  future. 
"I  have  fought — the  time  of  my  departure  is  come — 
henceforth  there  is  laid  up." 

I.  So  wc  notice  first    The  quid  courage  which  looks 

death  full  in  the  face  without  a  tremor. 

The  language  implies  that  Paul  knows  his  death 
hour  is  all  but  here.  As  the  revised  version  more 
accurately  gives  it,  "I  am  already  being  offered" — 
the  process  is  begun,  his  sufferings  at  the  moment  are, 
as  it  were,  the  initial  steps  of  his  sacrifice-—"  and  the 
time  of  my  departure  is  corned*  The  tone  in  which  he 
tells  Timothy  this  is  very  noticeable.  There  is  no  sign 
of  excitement,  no  tremor  of  emotion,  no  affectation  of 
stoicism  in  the  simple  senunces.     He  is  not  playing  up 


XX.]        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,        315 

to  a  part,  nor  pretending  to  be  anything  which  he  is  not 
If  ever  language  sounded  perfectly  simple  and  genuine, 
this  does. 

And  the  occasion  of  the  whole  section  is  as  remark- 
able as  the  tone.  He  is  led  to  speak  about  himself  at 
all,  only  in  order  to  enforce  his  exhortation  to  Timothy 
to  put  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  and  do  his  work  for 
Christ  with  all  his  might  All  he  wishes  to  say  is  simply, 
Do  your  work  with  all  your  might,  for  I  am  going  off  the 
field.  But  having  begun  on  that  line  of  thought,  he  is 
carried  on  to  say  more  than  was  needed  for  his 
immediate  purpose,  and  thus  inartificially  to  let  us  see 
what  was  filling  his  mind. 

And  the  subject  into  which  he  subsides  after  these 
lofty  thoughts  is  as  remarkable  as  either  tone  or  occasion. 
Minute  directions  about  such  small  matters  as  books  and 
parchments,  and  perhaps  a  warm  cloak  for  winter,  and 
homely  details  about  the  movements  of  the  httle  group 
of  his  friends  immediately  follow.  All  this  shows  with 
what  a  perfectly  unforced  courage  Paul  fronted  his  fate, 
and  looked  death  in  the  eyes.  The  anticipation  did  not 
dull  his  interest  in  God's  work  in  the  world,  as  witness 
the  warnings  and  exhortations  of  the  context  It  did  not 
withdraw  his  sympathies  from  his  companions.  It  did 
not  hinder  him  from  pursuing  his  studies  and  pursuits,  nor 
from  providing  for  small  matters  of  daily  convenience. 
If  ever  a  man  was  free  from  any  taint  of  fanaticism  or 
morbid  enthusiasm,  it  was  this  man  waiting  so  calmly  in 
his  prison  for  his  death. 

There  is  great  beauty  and  force  in  the  expression! 


3i6        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS.    [SERM, 

w^hich  he  uses  for  death  here.  He  will  not  soil  his  lips 
with  its  ugly  name,  but  calls  it  an  oflfering  and  a  departure. 
There  is  a  wide-spread  unwillingness  to  say  the  word 
"  Death."  It  falls  on  men's  hearts  like  clods  on  a  coffin 
— so  all  people  and  languages  have  adopted  euphemisms 
for  it,  fair  names  which  wrap  silk  round  his  dart  and 
somewhat  hide  his  face.  But  there  are  two  opposite 
reasons  for  their  use — terror  and  confidence.  Some  men 
dare  not  speak  of  death  because  they  dread  it  so  much, 
and  try  to  put  some  kind  of  shield  between  themselves 
and  the  very  thought  of  it  by  calling  it  something  less 
dreadful  to  them  than  itself.  Some  men,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  famihar  with  the  thought,  and  though  it  is 
solemn,  it  is  not  altogether  repellent  to  them.  Gazing  on 
death  with  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  Jesus  Christ 
has  given  them  concerning  it,  they  see  it  in  new  aspects, 
which  take  away  much  of  its  blackness.  And  so  they  do 
not  feel  inclined  to  use  the  ugly  old  name,  but  had  rather 
call  it  by  some  which  reflect  the  gentler  aspect  that  it 
now  wears  to  them.  So  "  sleep,"  and  "  rest "  and  the  like 
are  the  names  which  have  almost  driven  the  other  out  of 
the  New  Testament — witness  of  the  fact  that  in  inmost 
reality  Jesus  Christ  "  has  abolished  death,"  however  the 
physical  portion  of  it  may  still  remain  master  of  our  bodies. 
But  looking  for  a  moment  at  the  specific  metaphors 
used  here,  we  have  first,  that  of  an  offering^  or  more 
particularly  of  a  drink  offering,  or  libation^  "  I  am  already 
being  poured  out"  No  doubt  the  special  reason  for  the 
selection  of  this  figure  here  is  Paul's  anticipation  of  a 
violent  death.     The  shedding  of  his  blood  was  to  be  an 


XX.]        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS.        317 

offering  poured  out  like  some  costly  wine  upon  the  altar, 
but  the  power  of  the  figure  reaches  far  beyond  that 
special  application  of  it  We  may  all  make  our  deaths  a 
sacrifice,  an  offering  to  God,  for  we  may  yield  up  our 
will  to  God's  will,  and  so  turn  that  last  struggle  into  an 
act  of  worship  and  self  surrender.  When  we  recognize 
His  hand,  when  we  submit  our  wills  to  His  purposes, 
when  **  we  live  unto  the  Lord,"  if  we  live,  and  *'  die  unto 
Him,"  if  we  die,  then  Death  will  lose  all  its  terror  and 
most  of  its  pain,  and  will  become  for  us  what  it  was  to 
Paul,  a  true  offering  up  of  self  in  thankfiil  worship.  Nay 
we  may  even  say,  that  so  we  shall  in  a  certain 
subordinate  sense  be  "made  conformable  unto  his  death  " 
who  committed  His  spirit  into  His  Father's  hands,  and 
laid  down  His  life,  of  His  own  will  The  essential 
character  and  far-reaching  effects  of  this  sacrifice  we 
cannot  imitate,  but  we  can  so  yield  up  our  wills  to  God 
and  leave  life  so  willingly  and  trustfully  as  that  death 
shall  make  our  sacrifice  complete. 

Another  more  famihar  and  equally  striking  figure  is 
next  used,  when  Paul  speaks  of  the  time  of  his  "  depar- 
ture." The  thought  is  found  in  most  tongues.  Death 
is  a  going  away,  or,  as  Peter  calls  it  (with  a  glance, 
possibly,  at  the  special  meaning  of  the  word  in  the  Old 
Testament,  as  well  as  its  use  in  the  solemn  statement 
of  the  theme  of  converse  on  the  Mountain  of  Transfigu- 
ration), an  Exodus.  But  the  well-worn  image  receives 
new  depth  and  sharpness  of  outline  in  Christianity.  To 
those  who  have  learned  the  meaning  of  Christ's  resurrec- 
tion, and  feed  their  fouls  on  the  hopes  that  it  warrants, 


3i8        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,    [serm 

Death  is  merely  a  change  of  place  or  state,  an  accident 
affecting  locahty,  and  little  more.  We  have  had  plenty 
of  changes  before.  Life  has  been  one  long  series  of 
departures.  This  is  different  from  the  others  mainly  in 
that  it  is  the  last,  and  that  to  go  away  from  this  visible  and 
fleeting  show,  where  we  wander  aliens  among  things  which 
have  no  true  kindred  with  us,  is  to  go  home,  where  there 
will  be  no  more  pulling  up  the  tent-pegs,  and  toiling 
across  the  deserts  in  monotonous  change.  How  strong 
is  the  conviction,  spoken  in  that  name  for  death,  that  the 
essential  life  lasts  on  quite  unaltered  through  it  all  1  How 
sUght  the  else  formidable  thing  is  made.  We  may 
change  climates,  and  for  the  stormy  bleakness  of  life 
may  have  the  long  still  days  of  heaven,  but  we  do  not 
change  ourselves.  We  lose  nothing  worth  keeping  when 
we  leave  behind  the  body,  as  a  dress  not  fitted  for  home, 
where  we  are  going.  We  but  travel  one  more  stage, 
though  it  be  the  last,  and  part  of  it  be  in  pitchy  darkness. 
Some  pass  over  it  as  in  a  fiery  chariot,  like  Paul  and 
many  a  martyr.  Some  have  to  toil  through  it  with 
slow  steps  and  bleeding  feet  an4  fainting  heart ;  but  all 
may  have  a  Brother  with  them,  and  holding  His  hand 
may  find  that  the  journey  is  not  so  hard  as  they  feared, 
and  the  home  from  which  they  shall  remove  no  more, 
better  than  they  hoped  when  they  hoped  the  most 

II.  We  have  here  too,  the  peaceful  look  backwards. 
There  is  something  very  noteworthy  in  the  threefold 
aspect  under  which  his  past  life  presents  itself  to  the 
apostle,  who  is  so  soon  to  leave  it     He  thinks  of  it  as  a 


XX.]        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,        319 

contest,  as  a  race,  as  a  stewardship.  The  first  suggests 
the  tension  of  a  long  struggle  with  opposing  wrestlers 
who  have  tried  to  throw  him,  but  in  vain.  The  world, 
both  of  men  and  things,  has  had  to  be  grappled  with  and 
mastered.  His  own  sinfiil  nature  and  especially  his 
animal  nature  has  had  to  be  kept  under  by  sheer  force, 
and  every  moment  has  been  resistance  to  subtle  omni- 
present forces  that  have  sought  to  thwart  his  aspirations 
and  hamper  his  performances.  His  successes  have  had 
to  be  fought  for,  and  everything  that  he  has  done  has 
been  done  after  a  struggle.  So  is  it  with  all  noble  life ; 
so  will  it  be  to  the  end. 

He  thinks  of  life  as  a  race.  That  speaks  of  continuous 
advance  in  one  direction,  and  more  emphatically  still, 
of  eflfort  that  sets  the  lungs  panting  and  strains  every 
muscle  to  the  utmost  He  thinks  of  it  as  a  stewardship. 
He  has  kept  the  faith  (whether  by  that  word  we  are  to 
understand  the  body  of  truth  believed  or  the  act  of 
believing)  as  a  sacred  deposit  committed  to  him,  of  which 
he  has  been  a  good  steward,  and  which  he  is  now  ready 
to  return  to  his  Lord.  There  is  much  in  these 
letters  to  Timothy  about  keeping  treasures  entrusted  to 
one's  care.  Timothy  is  bid  to  "keep  that  good  thing 
which  is  committed  to  thee,"  as  Paul  here  declares 
that  he  has  done.  Nor  is  such  guarding  of  a  precious 
deposit  confined  to  us  stewards  on  earth,  but  the  apostle 
is  sure  that  his  loving  Lord,  to  whom  he  has  entrusted 
himself,  will  with  like  tenderness  and  carefulness  "  keep 
that  which  he  has  committed  unto  Him  against  that  day." 
The  confidence  in  that  faithful  Keeper  made  it  possible 


320       A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,    [serm. 

for  Paul  to  be  faithful  to  his  trust,  and  as  a  steward  who 
was  bound  by  all  ties  to  his  Lord,  to  guard  His  pos- 
sessions and  administer  His  affairs.  Life  was  full  of 
voices  urging  him  to  give  up  the  faith.  Bribes  and 
threats,  and  his  own  sense-bound  nature,  and  the 
constant  whispers  of  the  world  had  tempted  him  all  along 
the  road  to  fling  it  away  as  a  worthless  thing,  but  he  had 
kept  it  safe ;  and  now,  nearing  the  end  and  the  account, 
he  can  put  his  hand  on  the  secret  place  near  his  heart 
where  it  lies,  and  feel  that  it  is  there,  ready  to  be 
restored  to  his  Lord,  with  the  thankful  confession,  "  Thy 
pound  hath  gained  ten  pounds." 

So  life  looks  to  this  man  in  his  retrospect  as  mainly  a 
field  for  struggle,  effort  and  fidelity.  This  world  is  not 
to  be  for  us  an  enchanted  garden  of  delights,  any  more 
than  it  should  appear  a  dreary  desert  of  disappointment 
and  woe.  But  it  should  be  to  us  mainly  a  palaestra,  or 
gymnasium  and  exercising  ground.  You  cannot  expect 
many  flowers  or  much  grass  in  the  place  where  men 
wrestle  and  run.  We  need  not  much  mind  though  it  be 
bare,  if  we  can  only  stand  firm  on  the  hard  earth,  nor 
lament  that  there  are  so  few  delights  to  stay  our  eyes 
from  the  goal.  We  are  here  for  serious  work ;  let  us  not 
be  too  eager  for  pleasures  that  may  hinder  our  efforts 
and  weaken  our  vigour,  but  be  content  to  lap  up  a  hasty 
draught  from  the  brooks  by  the  way,  and  then  on  again 
to  the  fight 

Such  a  view  of  life  makes  it  radiant  and  fair  while  it 
lasts,  and  makes  the  heart  calm  when  the  hour  comes  to 
leave  it  all  behind.    So  thinking  of  the  past,  there  may 


XX.1        A  PRISONER 'S  D  YING  THO  UGHTS,        yii 

be  a  sense  of  not  unwelcome  lightening  from  a  load  of  re- 
sponsibility when  we  have  got  all  the  stress  and  strain  of 
the  conflict  behind  us,  and  have  at  any  rate  not  been 
altogether  beaten.  We  may  feel  like  a  captain  who  has 
brought  his  ship  safe  across  the  Atlantic,  through  foul 
weather  and  past  many  an  iceberg,  and  gives  a  great 
sigh  of  relief  as  he  hands  over  the  charge  to  the  pilot, 
who  will  take  her  across  the  harbour  bar  and  bring  her 
to  her  anchorage  in  the  landlocked  bay  where  no  tem- 
pests rave  any  more  for  ever. 

Prosaic  theologians  have  sometimes  wondered  at  the 
estimate  which  Paul  here  makes  of  his  past  services  and 
faithfulness,  but  the  wonder  is  surely  unnecessary.  It  is 
very  striking  to  notice  the  difference  between  his  judg- 
ment of  himself  while  he  was  still  in  the  thick  of  the 
conflict,  and  now  when  he  is  nearing  the  end  Then, 
one  main  hope  which  animated  all  his  toils  and  nerved 
him  for  the  sacrifice  of  life  itself  was  "  that  I  might  finish 
my  course  with  joy."  Now,  in  the  quiet  of  his  dungeon, 
that  hope  is  fulfilled,  and  triumphant  thoughts,  like 
shining  angels,  keep  him  company  in  his  solitude.  Then 
he  struggles,  and  wrestles,  touched  by  the  haunting  fear 
lest  after  that  he  has  preached  to  others  he  himself  should 
be  rejected.  Now  the  dread  has  passed,  and  a  meek 
hope  stands  by  his  side. 

What  is  this  change  of  feeling  but  an  instance  of  what, 
thank  God,  we  so  often  see,  that  at  the  end  the  heart 
which  has  been  bowed  with  fears  and  self-depreciation  is 
filled  with  peace  ?  They  who  tremble  most  during  the 
conflict  are  most  likely  to  look  back  with  solid  satisfac* 

f 


322        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,    [serm. 

tion,  while  they  who  never  knew  a  fear  all  along  the 
course  will  often  have  them  surging  in  upon  their  souls 
too  late,  and  will  see  the  past  in  a  new  lurid  hght,  when 
they  are  powerless  to  change  it  Blessed  is  the  man 
who  thus  feareth  always.  At  the  end  he  will  have  hope. 
The  past  struggles  are  jo5rful  in  memory,  as  the  mountain 
ranges,  which  were  all  black  rock  and  white  snow  while 
we  toiled  up  their  inhospitable  steeps,  lie  purple  in  the 
mellowing  distance,  and  bum  like  fire  as  the  sunset 
strikes  their  peaks.  Many  a  wild  winter's  day  has  a  fair 
cloudless  close,  and  lingering  opal  hues  diffused  through 
all  the  quiet  sky.  "  At  eventide  it  shall  be  light" 
Though  we  go  all  our  lives  mourning  and  timid,  there 
may  yet  be  granted  us  ere  the  end  some  vision  of  the 
true  significance  of  these  lives,  and  some  humble  hope 
that  they  have  not  been  wholly  in  vain. 

Such  an  estimate  has  nothing  in  common  with  self- 
complacency.  It  coexists  with  a  profound  consciousness 
of  many  a  sin,  many  a  defeat,  and  much  unfaithfiilness. 
It  belongs  only  to  a  man  who,  conscious  of  these,  is 
"looking  for  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto 
eternal  life,"  and  is  the  direct  result,  not  the  antagonist, 
of  lowly  self-abasement,  and  contrite  faith  in  Him  by 
whom  alone  our  stained  selves  and  poor  broken  services 
can  ever  be  acceptable.  Let  us  learn  too  that  the  only 
life  that  bears  being  looked  back  upon  is  a  life  of  Christian 
devotion  and  effort  It  shows  fairer  when  seen  in  the 
strange  cross  lights  that  come  when  we  stand  on  the 
boundary  of  two  worlds,  with  the  white  radiance  of 
eternity  beginning  to    master    the  vulgar  oil  lamps  of 


XX.]        A  PRISONER'S  D  YING  THOUGHTS.        323 

earth,  than  when  seen  by  these  alone.  All  others  have 
their  shabbiness  and  their  selfishness  disclosed  then. 
I  remember  once  seeing  a  mob  of  revellers  streaming  out 
from  a  masked  ball  in  a  London  theatre  in  the  early 
morning  sunlight ;  draggled  and  heavy-eyed,  the  rouge 
showing  on  the  cheeks,  and  the  shabby  tawdriness  of  the 
foolish  costumes  pitilessly  revealed  by  the  pure  light. 
So  will  many  a  life  look  when  the  day  dawns,  and  the 
wild  riot  ends  in  its  unwelcome  beams. 

The  one  question  for  us  all,  then,  will  be.  Have  I  lived 
for  Christ,  and  by  Him  ?  Let  it  be  the  one  question  for 
us  now,  and  let  it  be  answered.  Yes.  Then  we  shall  have 
at  the  last  a  calm  confidence,  equally  far  removed  from 
presumption  and  from  dread,  which  will  let  us  look  back 
on  life,  though  it  be  full  of  failures  and  sins,  with  peace, 
and  forward  with  humble  hope  of  the  reward  which  we 
shall  receive  from  His  mercy. 

IIL  The  climax  of  all  is  the  triumphant  look  forward, 
"  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteous- 
ness." In  harmony  with  the  images  of  the  conflict  and  the 
race,  the  crown  here  is  not  the  emblem  of  sovereignity, 
but  of  victory,  as  indeed  is  almost  without  exception  the 
case  in  the  New  Testament  The  idea  of  the  royal 
dignity  of  Christians  in  the  future  is  set  forth  rather 
under  the  emblem  of  association  with  Christ  on  his  throne, 
while  the  wreath  on  their  brows  is  the  coronal  of  laurel, 
"meed  of  mighty  conquerors,"  or  the  twine  of  leaves 
given  to  him  who,  panting,  touched  the  goal  The 
reward  then  which  is  meant  by  the  emblem,  whatever  be 


324        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,    [serm. 

its  essence,  comes  through  effort  and  conflict     "  A  man 
is  not  crowned,  except  he  strive." 

That  crown,  according    to  other  words  of  Scripture, 
consists  of"  life,"  or  "  glory** —  that  is  to  say,  the  issue  and 
outcome  of  believing  service  and  faithful  stewardship  here 
is  the  possession  of  the  true  life,  which  stands  in  union 
with  God,  in  measure  so  great,  and  in  quaUty  so  wonderous 
that  it  lies  on  the  pure  locks  of  the  victors  like  a  flashing 
diadem,  all  ablaze  with  light  in  a  hundred  jewels.     The 
completion  and  exaltation  of  our  nature  and  characters  by 
the  illapse  of  "  life  "  so  sovereign  and  transcendant  that  it 
is** glory"  is  the  consequence  of  all  Christian  effort  here 
in  the  lower  levels,  where  the  natural  Ufe  is  always  weak- 
ness and  sometimes  shame,  and  the  spiritual  life  is  at  the 
best  but  a  hidden  glory  and  a  strugghng  spark.     There 
is  no  profit  in  seeking  to  gaze  into  that  light  of  glory  so 
as  to  discern  the  shapes  of  those  who  walk  in  it,  or  the 
elements   of  its  lambent  flames.     Enough  that  in    its 
gracious   beauty   transfigured   souls  move  as    in  their 
native  atmosphere !     Enough  that  even  our  dim  vision 
can  see  that  they  have  for  their  companion  "  One  like 
unto  the  Son  of  Maa"     It  is  Christ's  own  life  which 
they  share ;  it  is  Christ's  own  glory  which  irradiates  them. 
That    crown    is    "a    crown    of   righteousness"    in 
another  sense  firom  that  in  which  it  is  "  a  crown  of  life." 
The  latter  expression  indicates  the  material,  if  we  may 
say  so,  of  which  it  is  woven,  but  the  former  rather  points 
to   the   character    to  which   it  belongs    or    is    given. 
Righteousness  alone  can  receive  that  reward.     It  is  not 
the   struggle  or  the  conflict  which  wins    it,  but  the 


XX.]        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,        325 

character  evolved  in  the  struggle,  not  the  works  of 
strenuous  service,  but  the  moral  nature  expressed  in 
these.  There  is  such  a  congruity  between  righteousness 
and  the  crown  of  life,  that  it  can  be  laid  on  none  other 
head  but  that  of  a  righteous  man,  and  if  it  could,  all  its 
amaranthine  flowers  would  shrivel  and  fall  when  they 
touched  an  impure  brow.  It  is,  then,  the  crown  of 
righteousness,  as  belonging  by  its  very  nature  to  such 
characters  alone. 

But  whatever  is  the  essential  congruity  between  the 
character  and  the  crown,  we  have  to  remember  too  that, 
according  to  this  apostle's  constant  teaching,  the 
righteousness  which  clothes  us  in  fair  raiment,  and  has 
a  natural  right  to  the  wreath  of  victory,  is  a  gift,  as 
truly  as  the  crown  itself,  and  is  given  to  us  all  on 
condition  of  our  simple  trust  in  Jesus  Christ  If  we  arc 
to  be  "found  of  Him  in  peace,  without  spot  and 
blameless,"  we  must  be  "  found  in  Him,  not  having  our 
own  righteousness,  but  that  which  is  ours  through  faith 
in  Christ"  Toil  and  conflict,  and  anxious  desire  to  be 
true  to  our  responsibilities,  will  do  much  for  a  man,  but 
they  will  not  bring  him  that  righteousness  which  brings 
down  on  the  head  the  crown  of  life.  We  must  trust  to 
Christ  to  give  us  the  righteousness  in  which  we  are 
justified,  and  to  give  us  the  righteousness  by  the  working 
out  of  which  in  our  life  and  character  we  are  fitted  for 
that  great  reward.  He  crowns  our  works  and  selves 
with  exuberant  and  unmerited  honours,  but  what  he 
crowns  is  His  own  gift  to  us,  and  His  great  love  must 
bestow  both  the  righteouimess  and  **  the  crown.* 


326        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,    [serm. 

The  crown  is  given  at  a  time  called  by  Paul  "  at  thai 
day,"  which  is  not  the  near  day  of  his  martyrdom,  but 
that  of  His  Lord's  appearing.  He  does  not  speak  of  the 
fulness  of  the  reward  as  being  ready  for  him  at  death, 
but  as  being  "henceforth  laid  up  for  him  in  heaven.** 
So  he  looks  forward  beyond  the  grave.  The  hnmediate 
future  after  death  was  to  his  view  a  period  of  blessedness 
indeed,  but  not  yet  full  The  state  of  the  dead  in  Christ 
was  a  state  of  consciousness,  a  state  of  rest,  a  state  of 
felicity,  but  also  a  state  of  expectation.  To  the  full 
height  of  their  present  capacity  they  who  sleep  in  Jesus 
are  blessed,  being  still  in  his  embrace,  and  their  spirits 
pillowed  on  his  heart,  nor  so  sleeping  that,  like  drowsy 
infants,  they  know  not  where  they  lie  go  safe,  but  only 
sleeping  in  so  much  as  they  rest  from  weariness,  and 
have  closed  their  eyes  to  the  ceaseless  turmoil  of  this 
fleeting  world,  and  are  lapped  about  for  ever  with  the 
sweet,  unbroken  consciousness  that  they  are  **  present 
with  the  Lord."  What  perfect  repose,  perfect  fruition  of 
all  desires,  perfect  union  with  the  perfect  End  and  Object 
of  all  their  being,  perfect  exemption  from  all  sorrow, 
tumult  and  sin  can  bring  of  blessedness,  that  they  possess 
in  over  measure  unfailingly.  And,  in  addition,  they  still 
know  the  joy  of  hope,  and  have  carried  that  jewel  with 
them  into  another  world,  for  they  wait  for  "the  redemp- 
tion of  the  body,"  in  the  reception  of  which,  "at  that  day," 
their  life  will  be  filled  up  to  a  yet  fuller  measure,  and 
gleam  with  a  more  lustrous  "  glory."  Now  they  rest  and 
wait     Then  shall  they  be  crowned. 

Nor  must  self-absorbed  thoughts  be  allowed  to  bound 


XX-]        A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS.        327 

our  anticipations  of  that  future.  It  is  no  solitary  blessed- 
ness to  which  Paul  looked  forward.  Alone  in  his  dun- 
geon, alone  before  his  judge  when  *'  no  man  stood  by " 
him,  soon  to  be  alone  in  his  martyrdom,  he  leaps  up  in 
spirit  at  the  thought  of  the  mighty  crowd  among  whom 
he  will  stand  in  that  day,  on  every  head  a  crown,  in  every 
heart  the  same  love  to  the  Lord  whose  life  is  in  them  all 
and  makes  them  all  one.  So  we  may  cherish  the  hope 
of  a  social  heaven.  Man's  course  begins  in  a  garden, 
but  it  ends  in  a  city.  The  final  condition  will  be  the 
perfection  of  human  society.  There  all  who  love  Christ 
will  be  drawn  together,  and  old  ties,  broken  for  a  little 
while  here,  be  reknit  in  yet  holier  form,  never  to  be 
parted  more. 

Ah,  friends,  the  all-important  question  for  each  of  us 
is  how  may  we  have  such  a  hope,  like  a  great  sunset 
light  shining  into  the  western  windows  of  our  souls? 
There  is  but  one  answer — Trust  Christ.  That  is  enough. 
Nothing  else  is.  Is  your  Hfe  built  on  Jesus  Christ  ?  Are 
you  trusting  your  salvation  to  Him?  Are  you  giving 
Him  your  love  and  service  ?  Does  your  life  bear  looking 
at  to-day  ?  Will  it  bear  looking  at  in  death  ?  Will  it 
bear  His  looking  at  in  Judgment  ? 

If  you  ean  humbly  say,  To  me  to  live  is  Christ,  then 
is  it  well.  Living  by  Him  we  may  fight  and  conquer, 
may  win  and  obtain.  Living  by  Him,  we  may  be  ready 
quietly  to  lie  down  when  the  time  comes,  and  may  have 
all  the  future  filled  with  the  blaze  of  a  great  hope  that 
glows  brighter  as  the  darkness  thickens.  That  peaceful 
hope  will  not  leave  us  till  consciousness  fails,  and  then 


328  A  PRISONER'S  DYING  THOUGHTS,  [serm.  xx 

when  it  has  ceased  to  guide  us  Christ  himself  will  lead 
us,  scarcely  knowing  where  we  are,  through  the  waters, 
and  when  we  open  our  half-bewildered  eyes  in  brief 
wonder,  the  first  thing  we  see  will  be  his  welcoming  smile, 
and  his  voice  will  say,  as  a  tender  surgeon  might  to  a 
Uttle  child  waking  after  an  operation,  "  It  is  all  over." 
We  lift  our  hands  wondering  and  find  wreaths  on  our 
poor  brows.  We  lift  our  eyes,  and  lo  I  all  about  us  a 
trowned  crowd  of  conquerors, 

"And  with  the  mom  those  angd  faces  smile 
Which  we  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile'' 


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